


On the Other Shore

by Arete20



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: A character gets COVID19 but it's minor, AND THEY WERE FLATMATES, Also: they have to share a bed at one point, Anxiety Disorder, Arthur is a prat but he's our prat with a heart of gold, Arthur wants to quit his job, COVID19, Gwen is a saint, Happy Ending, Harry Potter movie nights, Hurt/Comfort, Lots of video chats, M/M, Mentions of homophobia/racism/sexism, Merlin is a Sweetheart, Modern AU, Panic Attacks, Quarantine, Slow Burn, Uther is barely in this fic but he's the worst, merlin is a journalist
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-15
Updated: 2020-05-15
Packaged: 2021-03-03 00:47:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 24,446
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24206155
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arete20/pseuds/Arete20
Summary: Merlin Emrys recently moved to London to start his career as a journalist. Life is going well for the 27-year-old artsy and politically passionate introvert, except for one thing: his flatmate is an utter and complete clotpole. The kind that makes him do all the housework. But they make it work.That is, until COVID19 traps them in their flat together for an indefinite period of time. That’s when hell breaks loose.
Relationships: Merlin/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)
Comments: 33
Kudos: 211





	On the Other Shore

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first fic I've written in over a decade! I started writing this when we first went into lockdown in March when I was curious about how Merlin and Arthur would fare trapped in a flat together. A lot has happened since then, so some things are no longer accurate in terms of the UK's response to the coronavirus-mostly how it got announced. Just go with it. I've tried to capture life in this pandemic, the anxieties, but also the silver linings. 
> 
> This is mostly a love story,though, and is mostly light hearted.

The office was abuzz with quiet murmurs as Merlin sat back and stretched his arms. He had finally put the finishing touches on his article about the increasing levels of homelessness in London and the repercussions a COVID19 outbreak would have on the homeless and on public health. Blinking blearily, he sent it to the editor-in-chief and allowed himself to quietly bask for a moment in the relief of a project finally finished. It had been a long few weeks researching and conducting interviews and Merlin was ready to call it a night. 

“Tired?” Merlin startled and turned around to Gwaine and Elyan, his closest friends at work, approaching his desk. Gwaine had started at The Guardian roughly around the same time he had, though Elyan had been writing for the newspaper for a few years. 

“Exhausted,” he replied, gratefully accepting the hot chocolate from Starbucks that Elyan handed him. They made a curious pair, Gwaine and Elyan. Gwaine was wild and hilarious. There were countless stories of his drunken exploits that often made their way through the office, all of them crazy and few of them exaggerated. Elyan, however, was reserved and laid back. At first, he and Gwaine had butted heads. But eventually, Gwaine had grown on Elyan and both of them were fond of Merlin so they had come to an understanding of each other that had grown into an easy friendship.

“Done your article, then?” Elyan asked.

“Just sent it off,” Merlin said, grinning.

“Fantastic!” said Gwaine. “Fancy a trip to the pub? Drink’s on me.”

“I’d love to,” said Merlin, though he would actually hate it. Merlin hated crowded, loud places. He sometimes went with Gwaine, or with his friends Gwen and Lancelot, but he avoided it whenever possible. “But I’m exhausted. I’m headed home to get an early night.”

“Such a bore,” Gwaine groaned, but he reached over and ruffled Merlin’s hair. “I think you just want to spend more time with that hot flatmate of yours.” He and Elyan laughed at Merlin’s grimace.

His flatmate was hot. The problem was that he was also a prat of massive proportions. It made his living arrangements hell. Gwaine never stopped teasing him about it, and Elyan always rolled his eyes. 

“I think I’d prefer sleeping in the office, honestly,” said Merlin. Which was an exaggeration. But a justified one.

“Oh, come on,” said Elyan, affably. Elyan was always affable. “Arthur’s not that bad. You just need to get to know him. To really get to know him. For two people who share a flat, you two barely communicate. If you did, you’d realise that Arthur’s a prat, yes, but at the end of the day, his heart is in the right place.”

“You say that because Gwen dated him and they’re still friends,” Merlin said darkly. Gwen was Elyan’s sister and Merlin’s best friend. She had been the one to introduce Merlin to Arthur when Merlin had moved to London to start this job. “And because you don’t have to live with the prat.”

“True,” said Elyan, laughing. “But he’s really not that bad.”

“He steals my socks! And makes me do all the housework.” Merlin crossed his arms. He sighed. “Anyway, I’d better get going. Have a good weekend!”

He shut his computer, grabbed his bag, and stood up. 

“You too, Merls,” said Gwaine, giving him a one armed hug. Elyan clapped him on the shoulder. Then Merlin was on his way out of the office. 

He walked to the London Underground and waited for the tube. When it came, he purposefully sat away from the old man coughing without covering his mouth. He always hated sitting near people who were coughing or had the sniffles, but now that discomfort was exaggerated and also widely shared. He took out some hand sanitizer and cleaned his hands, nervously wringing them. His hand washing habits also seemed to be spreading.

It had truly been a long, difficult week. Not only with his article, but also with the pandemic. Merlin had paid keen attention to the novel coronavirus that had emerged in Wuhan, China at the end of December. He knew that the pandemic’s weight would fall heaviest on the poorest, and the origin of the disease in China would fuel racism against East Asians. Elyan had already covered the rising hate crimes. And to top that off, the government was mucking it up. It made Merlin feel helpless. But there was no use in lingering on it during his commute home.

 _I’m free!_ He texted Gwen.

  
 _Congrats!_ She texted back a moment later. I’m done for the week too. Then she sent him a video of her cat Cocoa trying to chase her own tail. He laughed, and stood up as his stop arrived. It was a cloudy, chilly evening. It was still light out, which Merlin still found unusual after months of the sun setting at four pm. He inhaled, enjoying the fresh air, the sound of his feet pattering against the pavement, the sound of people chattering away as they walked by him. 

Arthur was already home when he opened the door to their shared flat. He was lounging on the kitchen table with his laptop open. He was still working. He was always working. Or he was at the pub partying with his friends than stumbling home drunk. He looked up as Merlin shut the door with a snap and smiled politely.

“Hello,” he said. “Did you have a good day at work?”

“A busy one,” Merlin replied, giving him a smile. “How about you?”

“It’s going well,” Arthur replied. “I ordered take out for dinner and there’s some leftover, if you want it.”

“Thanks,” said Merlin. He washed his hands at the kitchen sink and then helped himself to fried rice and General Tsao’s chicken. Arthur sighed, and returned to his work.

This was usually the extent of his and Arthur’s interactions. They were polite, but distant. A few months ago Merlin had been in search of a flatshare, but London was expensive and finding a suitable flat proved difficult. Then Gwen had put him in touch with her ex who was looking for a flatmate. The flat had been wonderful and the rent had been affordable, especially after splitting it with Arthur. It was also located pretty close to his office. But the catch had been that he and Arthur had got off on the wrong foot almost immediately.

Well, not immediately. They had conversed with each other easily enough when Merlin had first viewed the flat. Merlin still remembers the first time he had seen Arthur, standing in the doorway of the flat. He was blonde, muscular without it being overwhelming (or intimidating). He had piercing blue eyes and endearingly crooked teeth. Merlin had immediately been attracted to him.

They had chatted for a bit about Gwen, then Arthur had showed him the flat. Merlin had liked it, and though he had reservations about living close to someone he was attracted to, the location and quality of the flat was too good to pass up. The affordable rent in London was also a big bonus.

Then Merlin had moved in. It turned out that Arthur was a slob. He didn’t wash his dishes or pick up his clothes from the floor. He took Merlin’s socks without asking, and half-heartedly apologised when Merlin protested. He also regularly made fun of Merlin’s ears and called him an idiot, which, honestly, Merlin wouldn’t have minded if it was meant fondly. He himself was prone to using insults fondly. But Merlin didn’t think it was. Arthur had tried to engage with Merlin, but everything he suggested were things that Merlin didn’t like, such as video games and going to pubs and playing football. Things with people and noise. Arthur had stopped trying to invite Merlin out after a few weeks, perhaps thinking Merlin’s refusals an affront. Merlin should have explained or suggested activities more to his suiting, or tried to find a compromise-but Merlin liked to retreat to his own room at the end of a long day.

There was a lot about Arthur that Merlin didn’t understand. Arthur was the son of Uther Pendragon, the owner of Pendragon Corporations. Arthur held a very high position as well, but for all his wealth he was still living in a normal flat. Which he was sharing with Merlin. He had dated Gwen, who was the sweetest person that Merlin knew. She always had been a good judge of character. And Arthur was nice enough, when he wasn’t being a lazy slob or engaging in sock thefts. There was just this wall between them that had been built and Merlin wasn’t sure how to navigate it. Not that it mattered, much. They were just flatmates, not friends, and they didn’t actively hate each other or fight all the time. Eventually, Merlin would find another place to live and they would part cordially.

After dinner, he retreated back to his room and got ready for bed. He opened his email, and found that his editor-in-chief, Mithian, liked his article and would run it in the next edition. He got a news alert announcing that the Prime Minister would be addressing the nation the next morning. He set his alarm clock and turned in for the night, still hearing the quiet sounds of Arthur typing away at his laptop.

The next morning, he sat on the couch with a cup of tea in his hands. Arthur had rolled his eyes at the exorbitant amount of sugar he put in his Orange Pikoe tea, but he was allowed to indulge his sweet tooth while there was a global pandemic happening. Boris Johnson stood at the podium looking every bit the clown-in-a-suit he always did. Arthur lounged beside him.

“What do you think he’s going to announce?” Arthur asked. 

“Dunno,” he replied, taking a sip of his tea. “Probably going to tell us not to go to the pubs without ordering them to shut down, the usual drivel.” Arthur snorted.

But the drivel for once was actually significant. The Prime Minister was ordering all but essential services closed and a directive to quarantine themselves. They were allowed one outing to exercise per day and for essential trips such as grocery shopping or to work if they were essential workers. He and Arthur looked at each other.

“I guess we’ll have to work from home,” said Merlin.

“I can’t believe we won’t be able to go out,” said Arthur, shaking his head. “I knew it was coming, and I know it’s a good idea, but it’s still hard to believe.”

“Yeah,” said Merlin sympathetically. He knew Arthur would find quarantine difficult. He was, at least to Merlin, the definition of the extrovert. When he wasn’t working, he was socializing. He didn’t seem to need a quiet hour to himself to recharge. “Why don’t you facetime with Leon? I’ll head to Tesco’s and get some more groceries, and we’ll make it work.” 

“Yeah,” said Arthur. “Sounds good. We should check in with Gwen and Lancelot, too.” Arthur smiled, then, and Merlin’s stomach did somersaults.

Tesco’s was chaotic. First, there was a line up. Merlin tried to stand as far away from people as possible, but it was difficult. Finding enough food was difficult, but he managed to get a good supply of food on both his and Arthur’s lists. He brought some junk food that he normally would avoid like chips and cookies and ice cream. Mostly because he was allowed to indulge his sweet tooth during a global pandemic. 

After he got home and stocked the fridge (Arthur didn’t say thank you, the prat) he facetimed Gwen.

“Hey Merls,” she said after she accepted his call. Merlin had known Guinevere, Gwen to her closest friends, for five years. Gwen was Guyanese, her parents having immigrated to the UK in the eighties. Gwen often talked about how difficult it could be growing up Black in her very white neighbourhood. But nothing could hold back someone as strong and brave as Gwen. She was an elementary school teacher with students that adored her. 

“How are you?” Gwen asked. 

“I’m okay,” he smiled. “Though I don’t know how long that will last. Gods, Arthur and I trapped in a flat together without an escape route!” 

“Maybe this is an opportunity for you two to actually communicate,” Gwen teased, laughing. “To get to know one another. In multiple ways.” Gwen always seemed to think that his “incessant complaining” about Arthur was driven by some latent sexual attraction. She wasn’t entirely wrong, but Merlin wasn’t going to admit that. 

“How are you and Lance doing?” Merlin asked, changing the topic.

“We’re doing alright,” said Gwen, her smile softening. Merlin could see that she was a bit anxious. “Lance has been in conference calls all morning trying to figure out how they’re going to look after the homeless. So many of our most vulnerable are going to suffer because of this.” 

“But there’s people like you and Lancelot to help them,” said Merlin. Lancelot worked for Unity Project, a homeless agency in London that operated a shelter and provided training opportunities. “Do you have enough food?”

“We stocked up a few days ago,” said Gwen. “We read the tea leaves. How about you?”

“Ran to Tesco’s an hour or so ago. How’s Elyan?”

“He’s well,” said Gwen. “I talked to him this morning. He has an idea for an article that you and Gwaine can work on with him, he’ll be in touch on Monday.”

“Brilliant,” Merlin smiled.

After he and Gwen finished talking, Merlin curled up with a book, a blanket, and another cup of tea. Arthur was back at the kitchen table with his laptop. The hours passed slowly. When the sun was setting and the sky was alight with pink and orange hues, the quiet thumps of Arthur’s footsteps against the wooden floors drew Merlin’s attention away from the book. Arthur looked tired, dark shadows under his eyes as if he hadn’t slept well the night before (probably hadn’t, the workaholic). 

“Do you want to watch something?” Arthur asked. He sounded almost timid, which was a first for Merlin. “I’m done work, and I figured we could watch something together?”

There was nothing else to do, and for once, Arthur was proposing an activity that Merlin enjoyed.

“Sure,” Merlin smiled. “What do you want to watch?”

Arthur looked surprised for a second, and then he grinned.

“How about a James Bond film?”

“Too much action,” Merlin said, scrunching his nose. “And too loud.”

“Figures you’d dislike action,” said Arthur. “You’d totally abscond to a cottage in the woods to get away from noise and people. I guess that rules out Mission Impossible too.”

“Obviously,” said Merlin. “How about The King’s Speech?”

“That sounds boring,” said Arthur.

“It is not!” Merlin protested. “It’s a story about a King learning how to treat his stutter in the wake of the Second World War and a friendship that transcends class boundaries!”

“Alright, alright,” Arthur laughed, holding his arms up in mock surrender. “How about if I watch The King’s Speech, you watch a James Bond film I choose? We can alternate.”

“Sounds fair,” said Merlin, with some reluctance. “But I really am not in the mood for an action film tonight.”

“How about Harry Potter, then,” Arthur suggested. Merlin brightened.

“How about the Goblet of Fire?"

“Works for me,” said Arthur. “Can you make some popcorn?”

“Why don’t you make some popcorn?” Merlin said, raising an eyebrow in an imitation of his Uncle Gaius. He had not quite yet mastered it and Arthur simply looked back at him unimpressed.

“Fine,” Merlin sighed. He tended to bend under the slightest amount of pressure. He should stop that. He made the popcorn, yet more tea (his caffeine addiction was going to be so bad by the time this was over) and they settled down on the couch and started the film.

“This is a bit on the nose,” said Arthur. “Watching Harry Potter with a bloke called Merlin.”

“Oh, piss off,” said Merlin. 

“We should do a drinking game next time,” Arthur grinned. “Take a shot anytime someone says Merlin’s beard. Maybe you should grow a beard. It can be a thing.”

“I am not growing a beard,” Merlin groaned.

“Because you can’t grow one?” said Arthur, smirking. Merlin threw a pillow at him.

Arthur laughed, and they returned their attention to the film.

“I thought Cedric was hot when I was a kid,” Arthur commented. 

“He’s not my type,” said Merlin. “Never has been.”

“Oh yeah?” asked Arthur. “Who is?”

“Snape,” Merlin said, straight-faced. 

Arthur choked on his popcorn and coughed.

  
“That’s not true!” He exclaimed a moment later, still rubbing his chest.

“No,” said Merlin, chucking. “I was taking the piss.”

Arthur gave him a shove.

“But who did you like?” he asked again.

“When I was a kid I thought Hermione was stunning,” Merlin admitted. “And I thought Malfoy was a proper git but an annoyingly attractive one.”

“Oh,” said Arthur. “May I presume that there are two bisexuals living in this flat?”

“Indeed,” Merlin snorted. He had known that Arthur was bi since they had first met. He kept a bi flag in his room. Merlin didn’t carry any flags or pins or any other type of merch. He wasn’t the type to be loud about his sexual orientation. In his youth, he had been closeted and ashamed of it, but that had receded over the years. Now he mostly kept it quiet out of privacy. He didn’t hide it, but he tended not to mention it when it wasn’t relevant. 

“We should put a bi pride flag on our door,” said Arthur. “Let people know that they are entering bi territory.”

“Why not just paint the walls blue, pink, and magenta?” Merlin said, rolling his eyes.

“That could work,” said Arthur, and they laughed. 

“Oh look it’s the scene- ” said Arthur. Then, he yelled with Dumbledore, “HARRY DID YOU PUT YOUR NAME IN THE GOBLET OF FIRE?!?!” 

Merlin cracked up.

They continued to bicker and comment throughout the movie. Arthur’s favourite character was Ron Weasley and Merlin’s was Hermione, but they both had a soft spot for Harry.

“Imagine the pressure he has on his shoulders,” said Merlin as Harry struggled to find a way to decipher the noises made by the gold dragon’s egg. “He’s only a child and he has to live with his abusive family for his own safety and now he has to face dragons and soon he’s going to find out that he’s the Chosen One and there’s a whole prophecy of how he has to defeat Voldemort and save the world. I don’t know how I’d cope.”

“You’d do fine,” said Arthur. “You already share Harry’s saving-the-world habit.”

  
“I do not,” Merlin laughed.

“Sure you do,” said Arthur. He shifted on the couch. “I’ve read your articles.”

“Oh,” said Merlin, shifting uncomfortably. “I am a journalist, I am supposed to write about social inequality and politics.”

“You do it really well,” Arthur said, taking a sip of his tea. 

“Oh,” said Merlin. “Thank you.”

Arthur shrugged. They turned back to the film. Merlin had never thought that Arthur would have read his articles. And that he’d like them. It gave him a warm feeling. This was the first time he really enjoyed Arthur’s company. It was endearing, the way he got into the film. He winced as Cho turned Harry’s invitation to the Yule Ball down. He gripped the sides of the couch when Wormtail killed Cedric. That part always got Merlin, too.

“This scene kills me,” said Arthur, as Harry grabbed the Triwizard Cup and he and Cedric’s corpse were transported back to Hogwarts. “The happy music and the celebration and then they realise something’s wrong…”

“It’s brutal,” Merlin agreed. “This is the book that made me the most emotional as a kid. Cedric was such a good character and he didn’t deserve to die.”

“No,” Arthur agreed softly. He squeezed Merlin’s shoulder. They watched the rest in silence. Afterwards, Merlin cleaned up and Arthur watched him, pensive.

“That was fun,” he said. “We should do it again soon.”

“I’d like that,” said Merlin, smiling. “But we should watch the other Harry Potter films before we try Bond or biopics.”

“Once a Harry Potter fan, always a Harry Potter fan,” said Arthur, grinning.

“Definitely,” said Merlin, and he wished Arthur a goodnight. Perhaps this quarantine wouldn’t be hell after all.

The next day there was a new familiarity between them. As if in watching a movie together they had somehow finally broken the ice that had remained frozen between them while they had lived together. Merlin felt closer to Arthur; could feel the beginnings of a bond rooted in a shared love for Harry Potter. They spent the day in quiet companionship, Arthur working on the kitchen table as usual and Merlin brought out paper and pencils and spent the afternoon making sketches. 

“Pretty good,” said Arthur at one point, looking over his shoulder as he returned from the loo. “Did the movie put you in the mood for dragons?”

“A bit,” Merlin shrugged. He looked down at his sketch of a large dragon, curled up in a forest. “I’ve always had a thing for dragons, though. They’re my favourite fantastical creatures.”

“I’m not surprised,” Arthur grinned, and went back to his work. 

He called his mother that evening. It was overdue, considering the circumstances, but he’d wanted to wait for the quarantine jitters to settle down. He didn’t want to worry her, and his mother was always worried about him. He had been an anxious child who was always on his own, always bullied, always different than the others. On top of that, they’d been poor. His mother had worked long hours as a cleaning maid to put food on their table and keep a roof over their heads. She’d never let on how hard it had been. The last thing Merlin wanted was to add more of a burden on her shoulders, now that she was finally able to get some time to rest.

She was in good spirits when she accepted his call.

“How are you, sweetheart?” Her voice was warm. Merlin felt his heart lifting.

“I’m doing well,” she answered. “How are you, Mum?”

“Excellent,” she smiled. “I’m doing excellent. Elena is being a darling and doing the groceries for me and for Alice and Gaius too. They send their love, by the way, and you should write them soon. They are getting older and I know they would love to hear more from you.”

“Yes, Mum,” Merlin smiled. “I will. How’s Will?” Will was Merlin’s best friend. For a long time, Will had been Merlin’s only friend. They had grown up together, took on the homophobes and bullies and the snotty classmates and neighbours together. Merlin missed him in London.

“He’s going on rants about the Tories all day long,” his Mum complained, but her voice was fond. “He still has shifts at his grocery store but if they don’t give them hazard pay and more paid sick days he’s going to try and convince his co-workers to strike.”

“I’ll cover it,” Merlin grinned. “Will’s going to give those rich bastards nightmares.”

“That he is,” Mum laughed. “And you’re going to help him.”

“Of course,” said Merlin. “But tell him to be careful, yeah?”

“I text him to be careful everyday,” she answered.   
“You haven’t texted me once,” Merlin raised an eyebrow. “I swear Will’s not your biological son but he’s clearly your favourite.” 

“Oh, hush,” Mum waved her arm in dismissal. “You’re always careful.”

“True,” said Merlin. He paused. “How are you really? How’s your lupus?” She had been diagnosed with lupus ten years ago. It caused her much pain, though she never complained about it. It was an autoimmune disease and the medicines she took suppressed her immune system. If she got the coronavirus, she would be high risk.

“I told you,” she said gently. “I’m doing excellent. I’m having good days with little pain and I’m staying inside watching bad reality television and watering my plants and baking many cookies and wishing you were here so I could feed them to you and put some weight on you.”

She was trying to reassure him. She never would admit it if something were really wrong. Merlin’s stomach churned and his chest tightened. 

“I’m not that skinny,” he said, forcing a grin. “And we both know you’d give those cookies to Will, your favourite.” She laughed.

They talked awhile longer, and then Merlin was sat at his desk staring at his laptop. His Mum had lupus. There was a global pandemic. People were going to die and his Mum could be one of them. She could be one of them and here he was in a different city, miles away, he might never hug and kiss her or feel her smooth back his hair or taste one of her cookies again. He could lose her. He probably would lose her. God. He was going to lose her. 

His chest was tight. He couldn’t breathe. Oh, god, that was a symptom! Did he have the coronavirus? He raised a shaking hand to feel his forehead. It was sweaty, but not hot. He couldn’t breathe. But he was breathing. It was too fast, too shallow, maybe he was going to die and she would lose him maybe he was having a heart attack oh god would the NHS be able to save him what was happening to him? He whined. His head began to spin. God.

There was a sound. The door, it was the door opening. It was Arthur opening the door. Oh god, Arthur was here, seeing him like this what would he think-

“Merlin?” said Arthur, his voice surprisingly gentle. “I thought I heard you in distress.”

Merlin whined again. Arthur slowly walked up to him and knelt by his chair.

“Breathe, Merlin,” Arthur soothed. He slowly, deliberately reached out and took Merlin’s hand, taking it and placing it against his chest. 

“Take a deep breath.”

“I-I can’t-“

“You can,” said Arthur. “Breathe with me.” Arthur deliberately inhaled. Merlin tried to follow. Arthur exhaled, and Merlin did too. 

“Good,” Arthur encouraged. “Now let’s take another.” And he repeated his slow, deep inhale. By the fifth breathe Merlin felt less like he was suffocating.

“Dizzy,” he said.

“You’re okay,” said Arthur. His voice was gentle. “Everything’s okay.”

“But my Mum-she might, she might die,” Merlin’s chest tightened again.

“Shh,” Arthur raised the hand not holding Merlin’s to brush his bangs out of his face. “She’s okay. And you’re okay.”

“I don’t,” said Merlin. “I don’t…”

“I see a laptop,” Arthur declared, out of the blue. “What do you see? Tell me something you see, Merlin.”

“You,” said Merlin. “I see you.”

“That’s right,” said Arthur. “I’m right here with you. What else do you see? Can you tell me four other things?

“My chair,” said Merlin. “My pen, notebook, my painting of Gwen…”

“Good,” Arthur praised. “I can feel the ground underneath my feet. Can you tell me four things you can feel, Merlin?” Merlin wanted to laugh. His prat flatemate was trying out a grounding technique with him.

“Your hand,” he answered, instead. “Your t shirt. The ground. My hair.”

“Great,” Arthur grinned. “I can hear your breathing, it’s steadier now. You’re doing so good. What are three things you can hear?” 

“Your voice,” said Merlin. “My voice. Birds chirping outside the window.” And he could hear them now, happily chirping to each other outside.

“Very good, Merlin,” Arthur smiled. “My shirt still smells fresh from the laundry. What are two things you can smell?”

  
“The vanilla scented candles,” Merlin smiled back. “And the shampoo you used this morning.”

“It’s good shampoo,” said Arthur.

“I’m sure,” Merlin took a deep breath. “And now you’re going to ask me for something I can taste.”

“So, tell me.”

“The chocolate bar I keep in my drawer for emergencies.”

“Well,” said Arthur. “Didn’t Lupin hand out chocolate as a remedy for anxiety caused by the Dementers?” He opened the first drawer on Merlin’s desk, grabbed the kit kat bar, and put it in Merlin’s hand. 

“Thank you,” said Merlin, for more than the chocolate bar. 

“Don’t mention it,” said Arthur, his eyes soft. His eyes were very blue. Beautiful. Arthur had beautiful eyes. Christ, he was doomed.

“How are you?” 

“Better,” answered Merlin, surprised to find that it was true. His stomach was still tense, he was still anxious, but he was steadier now. He could breathe. 

“I was talking to Mum,” he said, because he had to talk about it. “I was talking to her, and she was fine, but she has an autoimmune disease and I…”

He trailed off. His chest tightened again.

“Breathe, Merlin,” Arthur comforted, rubbing circles into Merlin’s hand. He had removed it from his chest, but hadn’t let it go. “You were scared.”

“I was. Terrified.”

“You had a panic attack.”

“Yes,” said Merlin. “I get those, sometimes. I have generalised anxiety disorder, and it’s better now, I have more control of it and I have coping mechanisms, but sometimes it comes up again.”

“That’s okay,” said Arthur. “You’re allowed to have bad days. And this is a scary time, we’re all anxious and I-I don’t mean that to minimise your feelings or universalise them because my sister has anxiety too so I’ve seen how difficult it can be, and how you’re feeling matters, Merlin.”

  
Arthur paused. He took a deep breath and squeezed Merlin’s hand before he continued.

“I can relate a bit. I don’t have anxiety, but my father is getting older and he had a heart attack a year ago. I’m scared for him. You’re not alone in being scared for a parent. The important thing is your mother is self-isolating and she has people who love and care for her to help her out. She’s going to be careful and she’s okay right now, and you can call her again tomorrow and make sure she’s still okay then. And the next day, after that. Take it one day at a time. And it’s more than alright to be anxious, okay?”

“Okay,” said Merlin. He felt better. Somehow, his sloppy, maddening flatmate had known what to do to calm him down. He wanted to get to know this tender side of Arthur Pendragon better. 

He opened the wrapper of his chocolate bar and munched on it. Arthur smiled up at him.

“Want to come watch Netflix with me?” he asked. “I’ll make some tea. And put an ungodly amount of sugar in it, just for you.”

“Okay,” said Merlin. He allowed Arthur to pull him up.

They held hands all the way to their couch.

Merlin thought he’d be embarrassed. It’s not as though he wasn’t embarrassed, not exactly. Arthur had seen him in a vulnerable moment. Merlin had worked hard to improve his anxiety, had spent hours in therapy and had tried out medications and coping mechanisms. He still had bad days and sometimes he had bad months, even, but he was better. Much better than he had been when he was a teenager. Even though he still had habits like constant hand washing because he was scared of getting sick and an aversion to crowds because he was anxious in social situations, he had made sure that his friends and colleagues didn’t pick up on it. Or, if they did, it didn’t come up often. It was, like so much of himself, something he tried to keep hidden. So he should have been embarrassed that Arthur had seen his anxiety, his weakness, so openly. He should have been scolding himself on allowing Arthur to even notice. This hadn’t been his first panic attack during their flatshare-it had just been the most severe.

But instead of humiliated and ashamed, Merlin felt secure. Part of it was how well Arthur had reacted to his panic. He had made Merlin the promised tea which had delivered on the exorbitant amount of sugar, and then had put on Love is Blind and proceeded to make fun of every couple hoping to fall in love and get married on the reality show. Merlin still felt wrung out and fragile, as if one bad thought could send him careening back to the sharp sea of panic that had threatened to consume him before. But Arthur’s voice and laughter kept him grounded. 

  
When the episode was over and the tea and popcorn finished, a comfortable silence fell between them. Arthur seemed content to sit beside him and Merlin liked the quiet company.

“How did you know how to calm me down?” he asked after letting the silence stretch for a few moments. “My therapist taught me the 5-4-3-2-1 technique with what you can see, feel, hear, smell and taste a few years ago but it’s not exactly widespread knowledge for people who don’t have a mental illness or who aren’t studying psychology or social work.”

“It’s like I said, my sister Morgana has generalised anxiety too,” said Arthur. He looked pensive. “She used to have a lot of panic attacks when she was younger. And a lot of night terrors-she could rarely get a peaceful sleep and she kept my father and I awake a lot of the time too. My father thought it wasn’t real, that she could get over it by herself. But it kept getting worse. Finally, one of Morgana’s teachers got through to him and she finally got to see an actual therapist. She told her about the grounding technique, and she can calm herself down with it pretty well but sometimes she needed me to help out.”

“How is she doing?” Merlin asked.

“She says she’s doing well,” Arthur bit his lip. “I don’t know whether to believe her or not. Not much I can do through skype where she can disconnect the call if I push.”

Merlin didn’t know what to say. After a minute or so of silence, he shifted and leaned against Arthur. He wasn’t usually demonstrative with those who weren’t friends or family, but Arthur looked tense and he felt like being close to him Arthur gave a small jolt, as if surprised, but then he leaned into Merlin in return. 

Merlin slept soundly that night.

On Monday morning Merlin tried to rally himself for a workday. It felt bizarre to not be making his usual mad dash about the flat trying to get his bag packed and clothes on and breakfast eaten with enough time to brave a crowded morning commute. Merlin had hated the rush, the way his exhaustion lingered, the stress for the coming day. He did often write at home, but this felt different. 

Elyan looked out of sorts, too. Though that was mostly because he hadn’t bothered changing out of his pyjamas. 

“This is a work meeting, El,” Merlin said, trying not to laugh (and failing). 

“And I am ready for work,” Elyan argued. “I have my notebook! I can make notes!” He held the said notebook up for Merlin to see, waving it about. He was sitting in front of a bookshelf that was full to the brim with books. Elyan had shown Merlin his collection of books the first time he’d had him over for dinner. He read dense academic books on critical race theory and feminist scholarship, books Merlin had struggled to wade through in university for exams. He also had all seven Harry Potter books, but they’d been hidden on the bottom of the bookshelf. Merlin had also caught Elyan reading Nicholas Sparks when he bumped into him on the tube once but they did not speak of that incident.

“You can’t be professional while wearing pyjamas with llamas on them, Elyan.”

“Of course I can,” said Elyan stubbornly. “Besides, professionalism is overrated. After this ends we should all dress however the hell we want to.”

“Whatever you say,” Merlin smirked. “I think Gwaine is rubbing off on you.”

They looked at each other through the screen.

“Hold this work meeting,” said Elyan. “We need to check up on Gwaine and make sure he hasn’t flooded his flat. Or got kicked out. Or brought a horse. Leave that man alone for a weekend and he’d totally buy a horse.”

“He would,” Merlin groaned.

Gwaine had not brought a horse. He had, however, cut his hair. 

“I decided it was time for a change,” Gwaine said. He was wearing pyjamas with seagulls on them. Merlin was clearly the only sane one among his co-workers. 

“But your hair,” said Elyan. “It was a masterpiece.”

“I know,” Gwaine sighed. “It was the best part of me. But I had nothing to do. I went for a walk and talked to seagulls. Seagulls aren’t good conversationalists. Also I have no idea how to stay six feet away from people on tiny sidewalks. So I spent the rest of my weekend home and thought fuck it, I should cut off my hair.”

“This is my fault,” Elyan groaned. “I should have checked up on you sooner. I could have saved it.”

“It’ll grow back,” said Merlin, but he was mourning Gwaine’s hair too. It had been great hair. It was long and wavy, reaching his shoulders. Gwaine sometimes even wore it in a ponytail. Now there was only a thin layer of hair on Gwaine’s head, newly growing roots valiantly trying to replace what had been lost. Merlin and Gwaine had a one-night stand, once, when they were still getting to know each other. Merlin was mostly mesmerised by the hair most of the time. Gwaine had never let Merlin live it down, and still liked to swoosh his hair around like he was in a hair commercial to tease Merlin. 

He couldn’t do that anymore. Perhaps there was a benefit to Gwaine cutting his hair after all.

  
“It was time for a change,” said Gwaine, oblivious to Merlin’s struggles. 

“It’s only been a weekend,” said Merlin. “A weekend. And I am talking to both of you in pyjamas and one of you has made a life changing decision without any input from any of us.”

“It was a very rough weekend,” shrugged Elyan. “Do you know how many times Gwen called me to make sure I had enough food or toilet paper or books?”

“Books?” Merlin raised an eyebrow in yet another weak imitation of Uncle Gaius.

“You know how I get when I haven’t read anything new for a week,” said Elyan. 

“Fair,” Merlin conceded. An Elyan without a book was like Harry Potter without his glasses; almost unrecognisable. 

“I didn’t go to the pub,” Gwaine moaned. “I can’t remember the last time I spent a whole weekend without going to a pub!”

“We are so spoiled,” Merlin sighed.

“And how was your weekend, Merls?” Elyan asked. 

Merlin hesitated. 

“I had a panic attack,” he admitted.

“Shit,” said Gwaine. “Was it a bad one?” 

“It was pretty bad,” Merlin admitted. “I talked to my Mum, and she has lupus and I got scared.”

He swallowed. 

“It was the worst one I’ve had for a long time,” he said, steadily. “But Arthur helped. He calmed me down. He actually used a grounding technique and everything.”

“That’s good,” said Elyan softly. “I’m glad Arthur was there for you. He’s pretty good to have with you when things get rough.”

“He was,” said Merlin. “I didn’t expect him to help.”

“I told you,” Elyan smiled. “He has a good heart underneath it all.”

“I still have to do all the housework,” said Merlin, but he was smiling. It had only been a weekend, and Merlin had already gone from seeing Arthur as the annoying flatmate he had to put up with to seeing him as a potential friend. Someone who helped him when he was vulnerable without mocking him, someone who’s company he enjoyed. 

Gwaine whistled. His humour, which he had dropped while they were discussing Merlin’s panic attack, had returned.

“You and the hot flatmate are starting to get along,” he laughed. “How long until you two bone?

“Gwaine!”

“What? It’s only a matter of time.” Gwaine teased. “Elyan, I’ll bet you thirty pounds they shag by the end of this month?”

“I bet you forty they shag within two weeks,” answered Elyan, to Merlin’s horror.

“No,” he said. “You two are not betting on me shagging my prat flatmate!”

“Come off it,” Gwaine smirked. “You like him.”

“I do not!”

“You so do,” said Elyan. 

He was going to kill the both of them. Slowly. 

They didn’t let up on their teasing, and they ended their call half an hour later having never talked about work. 

“How was Elyan,” Arthur asked when he left his room. Merlin plopped himself across Arthur on the kitchen table with a groan.

“He was wearing pyjamas. With llamas on it.”

Arthur snorted.

“Gwen brought him those,” he said. “She thought they were cute.”

“Sounds like something she would do,” said Merlin. “She has a soft spot for animals.”

“Especially cats,” said Arthur wistfully. “Seriously, she always used to stop and pet any cat she came across. And she used to send me pictures of cats all the time. And then she got her little monster and I was hearing about cat exploits endlessly.” 

“Cocoa’s not a monster,” said Merlin, defensively. He was protective of this cat. “She’s just on a different level than we are.”

“If you say so,” said Arthur. “That cat was out to scratch me, I swear.”

“She’s always been a sweetheart to me,” Merlin grinned. “Cocoa obviously knows a prat when she sees one.”

“I’m sure.” Arthur rolled his eyes.

“Have you talked to Gwen?” Merlin asked. He still felt like he was on shaky ground broaching anything personal with Arthur. They hadn’t really talked about Gwen since that first meeting, although Merlin knew Arthur and Gwen still spent time together. He and Arthur had even both been invited to Gwen and Lancelot’s for dinner parties. But they hadn’t discussed Gwen and the friendships that they both had with her.

“I did yesterday morning,” said Arthur. “She was happy to hear we’ve been spending time together and not at each others’ throats being stuck together.”

“I’ll bet,” said Merlin dryly. “She and Lancelot must be enjoying their time together.” Then he cringed. Arthur must not be keen to imagine his ex with someone else, even if he and Lancelot got along.

But Arthur was smiling.

“They had better be making the most if it,” he said. “I’d give anything to be holed up with partner.”

He paused.

“Not that I don’t like living with you,” he said hurriedly.

Merlin laughed. 

“No worries, mate,” he said. “I enjoy our movie nights but I can’t say I don’t envy Gwen and Lance right now.” 

“Imagine, they actually can have sex whenever they want!”

Merlin snorted. 

“I was thinking along the lines of being with the one you love in a tumultuous time.”

“That too,” said Arthur, shrugging. “But the sex part is cool too.”

“If you say so,” said Merlin. He wondered what it would be like if he and Arthur were a couple, sheltering in place together while a deadly virus lurked outside. Would Arthur be a demonstrative boyfriend? He had held his hand and smoothed his hair during his panic attack, and Gwen had mentioned that Arthur liked to cuddle. Would he spend less time working and more time in Merlin’s company? What would the sex be like? What was Arthur Pendragon like in bed? Christ, Merlin thought, trying to stem this line of thought with alarm. He couldn’t see Arthur ever being interested in someone as quiet and ordinary as Merlin. Even if he were, Merlin wasn’t keen on winning either Gwaine or Elyan any money from the bets they enjoyed making on his pathetic love life. 

“I haven’t had a proper shag in ages,” said Arthur brazenly. “If I’d known I’d get locked up I’d have partied all last weekend.”

“And come home drunk as hell,” Merlin groaned. 

“Exactly!”

“You did that almost every weekend anyway.”

Arthur paused. 

“I am a bit of a party animal,” he mused. He closed his laptop and regarded Merlin. Merlin shifted, a little uncomfortable with the attention. “It’s just how I let loose. But I’ve never seen you have much more than a glass of wine, and you’ve always turned down my invitations to pubs.”

“I don’t like them,” Merlin admitted. He idly tapped his fingers against the table. Then he wondered if that would annoy Arthur. He stopped. “They’re Gwaine’s natural habitat, so I tag along with him and El sometimes, and sometimes Gwen and Lance will take me to a quiet bar. But they’re loud, and crowded, and I don’t like the idea of getting drunk in them.” 

Merlin took a deep breath and looked up. Arthur was still regarding him, but he looked sympathetic. 

“I’m sorry I didn’t explain that to you,” said Merlin. “It must have seemed like I was constantly rejecting you. I didn’t mean to, I just-I just prefer staying home where it’s quiet. Or being out in quieter places like coffeshops or bookstores and you were always inviting me to bars and parties.”

“I thought you were reclusive,” said Arthur, but he was smiling. He reached over and gave Merlin a light, playful punch on the arm. “I thought you didn’t like me, or you just preferred your own company. But I should have realised that you didn’t like what I was inviting you out to do.”

“Oh, I could have expressed that to you,” Merlin shook his head. “I tend to be bad at basic communication sometimes.”

“Neither am I.”

They smiled at each other. Merlin tried to imagine what it would be like if he had tagged along with Arthur on a night out. Gwaine was wild-he jumped on tables and started singing, hooked up with any hot guy or girl he could, made the entire group laugh. Elyan was much more reserved, but Merlin had seen him let loose a few times, giggling at Gwaine’s jokes without his usual restraint. Not for the first time, Merlin thought that Gwaine and Elyan, unexpected duo that they were, would be a good couple. Next time they had a video chat he would be the one making bets.

“So, I was thinking,” said Arthur, sounding a little apprehensive. It was not a tone Merlin usually associated with his boisterous flatmate. “We should maybe try painting this flat?”

When Merlin had first seen the flat, it had already been furnished. They had rearranged some of the furniture, he had brought a desk for his room and some paintings for the walls which Arthur had approved of. They both seemed to have a taste for Van Gogh. The walls of their flat were a warm white, which Merlin found boring. He was an artist at heart and wanted to live in a place full of colour. But they were renting the property and he didn’t know how to broach the topic with Arthur. He had also thought of the flat as more Arthur’s than his, and was wary of suggesting a change.

“Why would we try painting the flat?” 

Arthur shrugged. A week ago Merlin would have described him as looking indifferent and non-committal, but after a few days of communicating with him he thought he also looked a bit nervous. 

“I thought it needed more personality,” said Arthur. “The landlord is fine as long as we paint it back after we move out. It would be fun to have something to do while we’re holed up here.”

“True,” Merlin considered it for a moment. “We can’t paint it all at once or we’ll be uncomfortable while it dries.” 

“Yeah,” said Arthur. “We can do it slowly so we can avoid places we paint for a few days. I think the kitchen and bathroom are good as is.”

“You’d be okay with us sharing rooms?” 

“Of course,” said Arthur quickly. “I’d be totally comfortable with a few blankets and a pillow on the floor, really.”  
“Me too,” said Merlin. For a moment, he imagined he and Arthur sharing a bed once again and wildly hoped he wasn’t blushing. “So are we doing bi colours?”

Arthur laughed. “I think that would be overkill! You’re the artist, why don’t you pick out colour schemes and we can decide?”

“I paint in my free time, I don’t paint houses that’s different,” Merlin protested, but he felt an excited warmth spread through him. It would be tricky painting the flat while they were stuck inside, but it was a project to undertake and it would make the flat they both lived in feel more like a home that they shared, rather than a space they both cohabited in. 

“We could put your art up, too,” Arthur suggested, smiling at him. “I’ve seen your sketches, your paintings-they’re really good. We should show them off.”

“If you think so,” said Merlin, slowly. Merlin had always loved painting. Ever since he was in school, and his art teacher Alice had said he had a knack for it. He was adrift on football fields and in boisterous locker rooms but at home in a quiet classroom painting away with the quiet chatter of students, or the chirps of birds, or the whoosh of the wind in the background. He drew his friends, flowers, dragons, and his favourite characters. He painted his mother in the kitchen and tending to her garden. He gave her pictures of her doing what she struggled to do or couldn’t do any longer; run, climb a ladder, dance to her favourite music. He made portraits of Guinevere on her birthdays, in dresses fit for the Queen she was named after. In his room he had paintings of Elyan with his nose buried in books and Gwaine laughing with his head thrown back. And secretly, he had one of Arthur, hard at work on his laptop with his hair mussed and dark shadows underneath his eyes. Merlin captured everything dear to him on canvasses, spent hours bringing the people and things he loved most to life with vibrant colours. But he had never been one to display his art, not like he displayed his writing. He liked the idea of his work on the walls of his home, liked that Arthur thought that they belonged there. 

“I do,” Arthur said, softly. 

Merlin took a deep breath. 

He had a lot of work to do.

Merlin had thought the lockdown would make the days long, that time would slow and the minutes would drag. He wasn’t wrong; the quarantine did make time pass more slowly. Both Arthur and Gwaine, his more extroverted friends, found it difficult to be shut up inside even as they adjusted to life in a pandemic. Arthur would often spend the mornings pacing, sometimes putting on exercise videos and working out. The sound would give Merlin a headache. Arthur would try and get Merlin involved, but it was mostly a no go. They started taking long walks in the evenings when there were fewer people out. Being outside still felt perilous. The sight of empty buses was unsettling, as was the sight of people in masks, and the hurry to put two metres of distance between themselves and anyone passing by. And yet stranger still was the feeling of sun on Merlin’s face, the sounds of traffic, the children playing-familiarity became unfamiliar when your life turned upside down.

At least there was work. He was working on an investigation with Gwaine and Elyan about the government’s response to the pandemic. He spent his afternoons doing research or conducting interviews. It was still difficult to focus. It was as if Merlin’s world had narrowed to his flat, to his neighbourhood, to Arthur. 

He often felt anxious. But he called his mother several times a week, enough to keep in touch but not enough to be fussy. He took it one day at a time, and every day that she was okay was one more day he didn’t have to worry. 

The day Boris Johnson was hospitalised with the coronavirus was bizarre. The soaring cases were alarming. Merlin spent hours sketching to try and take his mind off things. He donated money to help Lancelot’s agency care for the homeless and it helped him feel less helpless. 

Lancelot looked increasingly more exhausted every time they video chatted. He was a handsome Latinx man with soulful brown eyes and long dark brown hair (it rivalled Gwaine’s, but Merlin was going to keep that opinion to himself). But the last few weeks had drained him and he spoke to Merlin with dark circles under his eyes, trying to stay positive despite the weight on his shoulders. Merlin told him about his and Arthur’s adventures, which cheered him up.

“The both of you held each other at an arms length during months of living together,” Lancelot laughed. “And when we all have to keep our distance, you choose now to start getting closer.”

“It didn’t even take much,” said Gwen brightly. “They watched one Harry Potter movie together and now they’re mates. God, I knew I should have locked them in a cupboard to get them to bond!”

Gwen and Lance were prats. All his friends were prats.

Then there was Operation Paint the Flat. Merlin had to talk Arthur out of painting his room orange. Who wanted to paint their room orange? His prat flatmate, apparently. In the end, Merlin decided to paint their living room a warm yellow, Arthur’s room blue, and Merlin’s room light lavender with a light pink accent wall.

“You are such a girl,” Arthur had scoffed, but had quickly fallen silent at the look Merlin directed at him.

“First, that’s a lame sexist insult that should be left on the playground where you came up with it in kindergarten,” Merlin started. “Secondly, lavender and pink are just colours. Fuck gendering them.”

  
“You’re right,” said Arthur, sounding contrite. “Sometimes I fall back on the humour that was common with my football team mates and my friends in school. I used to think it was innocuous, but it never was okay and Morgana has given me hell for that before. I should know better.”

“And tell better jokes,” Merlin had sniffed, but without bite. He wasn’t used to quick, genuine apologies, especially after he lashed out at a joke many would see as inane, harmless. Not that bad, not worth making a fuss over. But Arthur hadn’t grown defensive over it at all. 

They ordered the paints online and Arthur had worn a pink shirt the next day and had cracked no jokes about it or called attention to it. It looked good on him-not that Merlin thought any colour would look bad on someone as gorgeous as Arthur, but it made him look softer and more at ease than the bland work clothes he usually sported, or the bright sports jerseys he liked to wear on weekends. Arthur had been wrong to make the joke, but Merlin sadly realised that Arthur had instinctively joked about Merlin liking ‘feminine’ colours while he had at least one shirt in one of those colours stashed away in his closet. Perhaps it was for Pride, or for any gay bars he visited. One of those spaces where even the queer men who presented in conventionally masculine ways had the security to push the boundaries of what they usually wore in their day to day lives, trying to shield themselves from the potential censure of their straight peers.

“Sometimes Arthur opens his mouth and puts his foot in it,” Gwen explained after Merlin told her about the incident. “His father was a Tory bigot. He was full of crap about things you had to do to be a man. Arthur tried to separate himself from Uther but I know his childhood still sticks with him. I mean, it’s hard for it not to when Arthur still works for his father. Arthur is a good man, but he grew up both incredibly privileged and neglected by his distant father who was also super homophobic. And racist. He wasn’t happy that his son was dating a Black woman, and he liked to pretend I didn’t exist the few times I met him.”

“Oh Gwen,” Merlin felt a flare of anger. “That’s unacceptable.”

“You don’t need to tell me that,” Gwen sighed. “Uther never said anything outright, but he was always cold, always dismissive. Not that I saw him that much, Arthur made it clear that I didn’t have to put up with Uther at all, but it’s hard to totally avoid your boyfriend’s father. Uther was also horrible to Morgana for her anxiety and when she came out as a lesbian-he was a horrible man through and through. And still Arthur wants to live up to his expectations.”

“That’s horrible,” Merlin thought about the many days and nights Arthur spent on his laptop at work. He never looked happy doing it and Merlin had the impression several times these past few weeks that Arthur didn’t like his job, though he never said so. It was more the resigned tone of voice when he described his work, the lack of interest he showed in his company. Arthur was a dedicated employee who always worked and didn’t seem to care about his company at all.   
“I keep hoping one day he’ll get the courage and resign,” Gwen shook her head. “It was a major conflict when we were together. It’s like he’s halfway out the door-he’s progressive, he’s openly bi to everyone but Uther, he’s always stood up to his father about the things that are important. But he’s still too afraid to leave completely, and none of us can make him.”

Merlin hummed. 

“You need to stand up to him,” Gwen said. “When he puts his foot in his mouth. When he’s lazy about the housework. I’ve been hoping you’d figure it out yourself, but you’re mates now and you’re quarantining together. It’s not right, because he should realise this stuff himself, but if you point it out to him he owns up to it.”

“I don’t like conflict,” Merlin shrugged. “It’s one thing to call him a prat when he says something sexist that he knows is wrong. But I don’t want to have a fight.”

“He once stayed over for a night and was a horrible guest,” Gwen said, but she was smiling. “Didn’t clean up after himself. Expected me to do everything for him. This was early in our relationship, and I snapped and told him off. And he immediately began to work on changing it. Again, he shouldn’t need to be told these things, but he’s posh and grew up with maids-if you do something for him, he thinks it’s okay.”

Merlin groaned.

“You can do it, Merls,” Gwen smiled.

And he did do it, a few days later. He’d spent that day vacuuming, dusting, organising his papers and wiping counters. Arthur, for once, wasn’t working but watched television curled up on the couch. Merlin was glad that he had a break, but honestly, it was becoming too much. He was used to this, but it felt different during the lockdown. And it felt different now that Arthur was more than the prat flatmate he didn’t want to fight with, but a budding friend. If Merlin was honest, it was also that his crush, once a shallow attraction, was beginning to grow more strong and serious now that he knew that Arthur could be caring, could bring him out of a panic attack, could laugh with him, could accept responsibility for his mistakes both verbally and through his actions. Arthur was becoming someone that mattered to Merlin, and Merlin expected much from those that mattered to him. Not the way Uther apparently expected too much from his son, but he couldn’t stand one of his friends falling short in an area where they knew better.

So when dinner was done, and Arthur pushed aside his plate fully expecting Merlin to pick it up and wash it, Merlin pushed it back.

“I cooked for the both of us,” he said. “So I think you can do the washing up tonight. I’ve spent all day cleaning anyway.”

Arthur glanced up, startled.

  
“Oh,” he said. “I just…”

“You didn’t even offer to help today. You just watched TV.”

“You never asked me to help!”

“I shouldn’t have to,” Merlin bit out. “And I might’ve, if at any time during our flatshare, I thought you were even the slightest bit willing to help me with the housework!”

“It’s not as if I do nothing,” Arthur protested. “I clean up my own room, do my own laundry…”

“But I do practically everything else.”

“I’m a busy man, Merlin.” 

“So am I,” said Merlin, keeping his voice deliberately calm. He knew that if he lost his temper, if he started shouting, it would be unfair to Arthur and he would say something he regretted. “I’m a journalist. My work is as important as yours is. It’s especially important right now because we happen to be in the middle of a pandemic and there are things I need to investigate and articles I need to write to keep people informed of what’s happening, what their government is doing right and what they’re doing wrong and how people are suffering and the ways that they’re being helped and failed by those in power. I’m one of the people doing that reporting. And I also spent my free time today cleaning this flat by myself without you lifting a finger. That’s wrong, Arthur, and it would be wrong even if I wasn’t busy, honestly. We both live in this flat, we’re both responsible for it.”

Arthur looked stricken. Like he hadn’t expected quiet Merlin to snap. He also looked guilty.

“I am a prat, aren’t I?” Arthur said, rubbing the back of his neck. “I just-I don’t have an excuse.”

“I’m not your manservant, Arthur,” said Merlin, but his voice was gentle. “My time is as valuable as yours. And I should have been assertive way before this, I should have refused to clean up after you or been firm about how we were dividing the housework and what worked for us. I can’t really fully blame you when I let you be a lazy clotpole.”

“Clotpole?” Arthur raised an eyebrow. “What’s that?”

“You,” said Merlin, crossing his arms. “You are a clotpole.”

“Right,” Arthur snorted, then adopted a more serious expression. He stood up and put his arm around Merlin.

“I’m so sorry,” he said quietly. “I’m going to try to be better. Not take you or your time for granted and help out around the flat. It was unfair of me to ever think it was okay to just look after my room and things and let you take care of everything else. I’m not going to be perfect, but I promise I’ll work on it, okay?”

“Okay.” Merlin leaned into Arthur for a moment. A surge of relief rushed through him, the edge of anxiety that had fluttered through his stomach all day calmed. 

“I’ll do the washing,” Arthur whispered. “Then I’ll make us some hot chocolate and we’ll watch some Doctor Who.” 

“One of the fluffy episodes?”

“Sure, why not,” Arthur sighed. But he was smiling.

Arthur did try. It wasn’t an overnight transformation, and Merlin did have to nudge him sometimes, but they worked out a plan for who did what and when and that made it easier to handle. They should have done that when they first moved in, but they were both, as Gwen informed them, idiots. Arthur felt guilty enough that he took on Merlin’s most hated chores, vacuuming. Merlin still did his room, but otherwise it went to Arthur to put up with the noise of the vacuum and clean up. Merlin felt a bit guilty for taking advantage, but then again, Arthur probably deserved it.

Instead of things becoming strained between them, they became easier. Another wall between them knocked down. They spent more time together, laughed more, and touched each other more. Arthur, Merlin learned, was a very physically affectionate person. He slapped Merlin’s back and ruffled his hair and playfully punched his arm. He also sat closer to Merlin on the couch, patted his hand, knocked their shoulders together. Merlin had a permanent case of butterflies in his stomach. A crush, he realised, hurt more when the person you desired was close to you rather than held at an arm’s length. It was harder to ignore his feelings, harder not to stare at the way the sun made Arthur’s hair shine, or how Arthur’s entire face lit up when he laughed. 

One afternoon Arthur took a break from his work and insisted Merlin do the same. It was something of a first, Arthur trying to pull Merlin away from his work rather than the other way around. They decided to take a walk, shrugging on their jackets and stepping out into the cool air. It was a sunny day, the kind that would invite Merlin to spend hours in a café before the lockdown. Merlin feels the familiar pang in his chest when he thinks about life before the pandemic.

Arthur seems more at ease outside. Merlin can see how much he misses his old life, misses being out and seeing his friends. It makes Merlin regret that he didn’t try and get to know him during those days, that he quickly made up his mind about Arthur and never bothered to look deeper, never considered that maybe this man might make a good friend. It was nice to see him look cheered by the sunny day, see him smile at the art children had drawn with sidewalk chalk and the families out with their dogs. 

“You know, Merlin,” Arthur said a few minutes into their walk. “I envy you.”

“Why?”

“The way you talked about your work,” Arthur took a breath. “The way you were passionate about what you do and you believed what you do is important. You said your work is as valuable as mine, but honestly, Merlin, I think what you do is far more valuable than what I do. I hate my job.”

“You’re always working,” said Merlin quietly. He wanted to reach out to Arthur, to touch, to comfort him in some way but he was too shy. An elderly man approached them, and Arthur took Merlin’s arm and gently guided him onto the grass so he could pass them. He didn’t let go. Merlin decided to link their arms together. He still felt apprehensive about being affectionate with men in public, but with the streets as sparse as they were, it was easier. And Merlin couldn’t have brought himself to pull away from Arthur in any case. Not when he was opening up to Merlin like this.

“My father expects it of me.” 

“Arthur,” said Merlin softly. “Gwen told me a bit about you and your father. She said he was homophobic, and that he expected too much of you.”

Arthur sighed.

“He does,” he muttered. “And she’s right, he’s a bigot in every sense of the word. He was terrible about Gwen, he kicked Morgana out after she came out to him. He’d cut me off, too, if he knew I was bi.” Merlin pressed closer to him. It was a good thing that they lived together. He didn’t think he’d be able to take socially distancing from Arthur Pendragon right now.

“I know I shouldn’t put up with it,” Arthur continued. “I can get a job elsewhere, I already live away from him, I don’t have to live up to his expectations or put up with his crap. I know that.”

“So why do you?” Merlin asked, trying to keep his tone comforting. He didn’t want Arthur to think he was judging him.

“I don’t know,” said Arthur with a shrug. “It’s just, I love him. Despite it all, I still want to please him.”

“Oh Arthur,” said Merlin, feeling sad. “You shouldn’t have to jump through hoops for your father’s love. That’s not right.”

  
“I know,” Arthur sighed. “Maybe this pandemic is a good time to quit. I have savings. I mean, the economy is going to shit so not the best time to look for a job.”

“Maybe try putting your foot down,” said Merlin. “Don’t quit yet but make it clear that you’re going to work less hours.”

Arthur nodded. Merlin could see that this was something Arthur had been thinking about, something that he brought up to Merlin for validation and support. 

“He’ll be angry,” Arthur said. 

“Well, the good thing about this lockdown is that he’ll have to be angry from a distance,” said Merlin. “Over email, or over a phone where you can hang up.”

“Isn’t that cowardly?” Arthur asked. “Talking to your father when you know it can’t be in person, when you know there’s a way out?”

“When it comes to your homophobic father? Not at all. Having an exit strategy is the best thing in that situation, and it takes a lot of courage to even have that conversation.”

“Thank you Merls,” said Arthur. “That’s okay, right? If I call you Merls?”

“I’d like that,” Merlin smiled up at him. “It’s what all my friends call me, and you’re my friend now, Pendragon.”

“Am I?” Arthur grinned. The prat looked beautiful and Merlin had to resist the temptation to lean up and kiss him right then and there.

That night, Merlin sat beside Arthur as he wrote the email. The next day he received a call from his irate father. He calmly explained that he wanted reduced hours, and that he wouldn’t take no for an answer-he was doing far much more work than should be expected of any employee, even the owner’s son. Uther could probably read the tea leaves, could see that this was Arthur’s first tentative step in leaving the company for better pastures. Merlin held Arthur’s hand the entire time, a show of support and a silent fuck you to a man that would dare reject his children for being who they were. Arthur stood his ground, and Merlin made him his favourite dinner and they played scrabble for the rest of the day. When it was time to turn in for the night, Arthur gave him a hug to say thank you. Merlin buried his head in Arthur’s shoulder, and then spent the night trying not to obsess over the way it had felt to have Arthur’s arms wrapped around him.

A few days later, they began Operation Paint the Flat. It was hard work, and Merlin hated the smell of the paint. But Arthur enjoyed every second of it, for a man who has just recently started helping with the housework, and his good mood was infectious. They painted the living room first, moving and covering up their furniture. It took them two days. After that, they spent the next few days hanging out in each other’s rooms, ordering in Italian food and being quiet while both of them worked. 

Then they moved on to Merlin’s room. They managed to finish it in a day. Arthur was especially nice that day, and Merlin could tell he was still feeling bad about his earlier comment. Merlin appreciated it, and told him so after they were finished, and they had tiredly collapsed onto their couch.

“I used to get bullied because I was quiet and into things the boys considered girly,” said Merlin. “And because I was anxious. But mostly, I think they realised I was queer. They’d call me homophobic slurs, punch me. The teachers never really tried that hard to stop it. Our town was very Conservative, packed with straight and white people scared of anyone different, whether that were boys that they thought liked other boys or immigrants or women who wanted anything more than being a good wife and mother. It was intolerable, if I didn’t have my friend Will to bear it with me. It took a long time to become more comfortable being more feminine; more queer. I always say I’m the type who’s quiet about my sexuality, and that’s true, but it’s also partly because I’m still scared to talk about it. Even to other queer people.”

“Oh Merlin,” Arthur put an arm around his shoulders and pulled him close. “That’s terrible. I can’t imagine anyone hurting you like that. And then I went and parroted them to you, didn’t I? I’m so sorry, Merlin.”

“It’s long forgiven,” Merlin put his head on Arthur’s shoulder, feeling exhausted. “It’s nice. To paint my room in pastels.”

“It’s going to look great,” said Arthur quietly. He reached his hand up and began to slowly stroke it through Merlin’s hair. Merlin closed his eyes, feeling contented. 

“I was so happy when I saw your bi flag,” Merlin murmured. “I was happy to share a flat with someone like me. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you earlier.”

“No, Merlin,” said Arthur gently. “You don’t need to feel bad for not coming out to someone. It’s okay. Want to come to bed?”

“Yeah,” said Merlin. “I’ll sleep on the floor.”

“Nonsense,” said Arthur. “It’ll be bad for your back. We can share my bed, it’s big enough for the both of us.” Merlin didn’t have the energy to protest, and soon found himself tucked into bed with Arthur Pendragon.

Merlin usually had trouble sleeping in unfamiliar places. But he didn’t feel his usual apprehension with Arthur lying so close to him. It didn’t feel crowded or strange.

It felt safe.

Two days later his Mom calls him with bad news.

“It’s Will,” she said. “He has COVID. He’s okay! It’s a mild case. He’s lost his sense of taste and smell and he’s in bed with a fever. He should be alright, the doctors are telling him to rest and eat healthy food.”

“I didn’t call him,” said Merlin, stricken. “This whole time, I never called him and I knew, I fucking knew he was working at that grocery store. I’ve been safe at home and he’s been going out.” Merlin feels tears well up in his eyes and tries to blink them away.

“Sweetheart,” his mother whispered. He could tell that she wanted to hug him. “It’s okay. Will understands. He didn’t call you because he was busy too.”

“What if he isn’t okay?” Merlin asked.

“He’s a strong one,” his mother replied. “And a stubborn one. The coronavirus should be the one that’s scared.” This drew a small smile from Merlin.

After they hung up, he took a deep breath. He was not quite on the verge of a panic attack, but he was close. He wanted to call Will, but he had to calm down first. He got up and went to the living room. Arthur looked up from his laptop and was on his feet in an instant. 

“What’s wrong, Merls?” He put his hand on Merlin’s shoulders and steered him towards their couch. 

“My best friend Will has the coronavirus.” 

“Oh, no, that’s awful.” Arthur started to rub his back. It calmed Merlin. “How is he?”

“It’s a mild case,” said Merlin. “At least, it’s mild so far. But the doctors think he’ll be okay and he can rest at home.”

“That’s a good sign,” said Arthur gently. 

“I’m still scared,” said Merlin. “I’ve known Will since I was a baby. We grew up together, got in trouble together. He stood up for me in school and he was the first person I ever came out to. I can’t lose him.”

“I’d be scared too, if it were one of my friends,” said Arthur. “It’s okay. He’s going to take care of himself and get better.”

“And if he doesn’t?” Merlin felt horrible for asking this question twice, but it was his worst fear. 

  
“The chances of that are low,” said Arthur, pulling Merlin into his arms. “Your friend is young and in good health, right? He has a very good chance to getting better. And no matter what happens, you’re not alone. I’m right here with you.”

“Thank you,” Merlin whispered. He closed his eyes and let Arthur hold him for awhile. He normally wasn’t this quickly affectionate with his friends, but it felt natural with Arthur. Perhaps it was the quarantine, making them bond faster than they would have otherwise. Or maybe it was just Arthur.

When he was calm and ready, he called Will.

Will, it turns out, was not afraid. Just cranky.

“Do you know how much I want a hot chocolate?” He complained. “But even if I had one, I wouldn’t be able to taste it. What’s the point of getting sick if you can’t treat yourself?”

“That sucks, Will,” said Merlin sympathetically. “How are you feeling?”

“Pretty sucky,” Will leaned back against the pillows. “But not as bad as I could be. The symptoms of this disease are pretty terrifying and I got off pretty easy, so far at least.”

“Let’s hope it stays that way,” Merlin smiled. “I miss you.”

“Well this town is boring as hell without you,” said Will. 

“But it has you to keep everyone on their toes,” Merlin grinned. “You were giving your bosses some trouble, Mum told me.”

“Not enough,” Will shook his head. “They haven’t given us hazard pay or really that much adequate protection.”

“And you got sick.”

“Yeah. And five more of our employees too. We still get paid pennies.”

“I’m sorry.” Merlin took in the sight of his best friend, who looked pale and feverish despite his attempts at snark. Will had always been the strong one out of the two of them. They grew up working class in the North, and Will’s father had died in a mining accident. His mother was never the same after that, and Will had become a frequent fixture at his house. Hunith loved him like a son. His father’s loss had made Will angry; angry that his father had died and that the family still struggled. It inspired a love of politics in him and he and Will had often caused problems trying to get their mostly Conservative neighbours to sign petitions and attending protests and being loudly opinionated. It had been part of what drove Merlin to pursue journalism. But now he had a great job and he was able to work with good pay while his best friend was an essential worker who had to put his health at risk to keep earning. Not that Will wouldn’t have gone otherwise-Merlin knew that Will would have wanted to help keep the grocery stores working, knowing that people needed to stock up on food now more than ever. “I should have called you before this.”

“As if I had the time,” Will snorted. “I’m going to be okay, mate. I’m lucky. This is going to be two weeks of feeling sucky and binge-watching Game of Thrones and hoping all the royals get brutally murdered.”

Merlin laughed. Will hated the monarchy, and that sentiment often bled into his opinions on fictional worlds, regardless of how unlikely it would be for Westeros to adopt a democratic form of government. 

“ So,” said Will, voice sounding slightly raspy. “How are you? Going crazy trapped with that posh flatmate?”

“I think I’m falling for him,” Merlin blurted. Wait, he hadn’t meant to say that. He had a crush, had owned that even when he and Arthur barely spoke-at least, he had owned it to himself, even if he denied any attraction to his way too curious friends. But Merlin realised with a sinking feeling that it was true. 

Will sat up, ignoring Merlin’s protests. Upright, Merlin could appreciate the mess his pillow hair was.

“You think you’re falling for him,” Will repeated, slowly, carefully enunciating each word. "This is the posh prat you’ve been complaining about the entire time you lived together.”

“Yeah,” said Merlin. “Him.”

“How did that happen?”

“I don’t know!” Merlin shook his head. “I don’t love him, it hasn’t been long enough to even develop unrequited feelings at this point. But I could, Will. He’s beautiful. And, well, he’s still a prat but he’s also kind and intelligent and really funny. He tries to make things right when he messes up and he takes care of me. I don’t ask him to, but he’s looked after me this whole lockdown in so many ways.”

“Okay,” said Will. “Would you like to be his boyfriend?”

“I’d love to,” Merlin sighed. “But we’re just becoming friends. And I have no idea if he feels the same way. I’m so sorry, Will, you’re sick with the coronavirus and here I am blabbering on about my feelings for my flatmate.”

“It’s a good distraction,” said Will. “I don’t think I’ve heard you this into anyone since Freya.” Merlin closed his eyes and remembered Freya. She had been his first serious girlfriend. Scratch that, she had been the only serious, long-term relationship he had. They’d been together all through university, supporting each other through finals and drinking copious amounts of bitter coffee through all nighters. She had loved strawberries and music, and had made him feel safe to be himself after locking so much of himself away as a child. She had lived close to the lake Windermere in Cumbria, and she had taken him home with her when they were on break. One of Merlin’s most treasured memories with her was the picnic they’d had near the water, the sunshine and the spring breeze. Merlin still thought of her when he had strawberries, and when he heard a Lindsey Sterling song, remembering the way Freya had made him dance along to Sterling’s violin covers. They had parted ways after finishing their undergraduate degrees, having chosen different career paths. 

After that, Merlin hadn’t known anyone who made him want to date again. It had mostly been quick flirtations, even casual flings, but the desire to be with someone else hadn’t been there. He had been happy and fulfilled with the friendships he cultivated and his work. But it was nice to imagine a potential relationship with Arthur. To wake up beside him every day because they shared a bed, not because they were painting their flat. To learn what kind of foods Arthur loved and his taste in music. Arthur and Freya were completely different people-she had been timid and shy where he was confident and outgoing, but Will was right that he hadn’t been this interested, this excited, about anyone since Freya. 

When had he become this invested?

The next week passed in a blur. Once Merlin’s room was dry, they relocated there and painted Arthur’s. By now, they were a team. Merlin could tell when Arthur was getting tired, and Arthur knew when Merlin needed to stop for a drink of water. They joked and laughed with each other the whole time. Merlin learned that Arthur loved Queen, and they blasted “Bohemian Rhapsody” on repeat for an entire afternoon while they painted. Then they proceeded to debate the meaning of the song, Arthur was adamant that it was about Freddie Mercury’s feelings about being queer while Merlin thought it had been written to be ambiguous and that it was the listener’s job to interpret its meaning.

Sharing a bed with Arthur had both become easier and more difficult. Merlin didn’t know how he’d go back to sleeping on his own, without the now familiar sound of Arthur’s breathing beside him, without the knowledge that Arthur was peacefully asleep next to him, in arms reach. Yet that proximity still felt too distant when Merlin was entertaining fantasies of being in Arthur’s arms themselves. He was perpetually afraid of having a wet dream and calling Arthur’s name in his sleep. It was certainly plausible, since Merlin’s mind was crowded with thoughts about how gorgeous Arthur was and how much he’d like to take him to bed for purposes other than sleeping.

Both Elyan and Gwaine were teasing him over the fact that they hadn’t shagged yet. They still hadn’t given up their bets, instead choosing to extend them and increase the amount of money. Merlin had tried to tell them that it was a lost cause, but they wouldn’t listen to him. 

Will steadily recovered and became a further source of annoyance to Merlin, constantly teasing Merlin for his feelings about posh flatmates.

All his friends were prats.

Even kind hearted Gwen teased him over Arthur, asking whether she could start planning their wedding after this pandemic ended. 

Eventually, they finished painting. After waiting a few days for the paint to dry they moved Arthur’s furniture and bed back in, and re-stocked his closet. The blue walls made the room look larger, more open. Merlin helped Arthur put up posters of his favourite football teams and fondly listened to Arthur tell him about each one’s strengths and history. When they were finished, they collapsed on the couch. They did that often these days. 

“It looks so different,” Arthur mused, taking a look around. Operation Paint the Flat had completely transformed their home. They had found a sunset yellow to paint their living room, which made it look bright and comforting. A space to be optimistic in. Arthur had insisted on following through on his promise to hang up Merlin’s art, and the walls now displayed Merlin’s pictures of dragons (“What kind of name is Kilgarrah, Merlin, that dragon looks way too cool for such a lame name!”), the skyline of London, and a strawberry field he had painted while missing Freya. 

“We did a good job,” Merlin smiled, and nudged Arthur’s foot with his. But that night, when he lay down in bed and Arthur wasn’t there with him, he felt a pang in his chest and had trouble sleeping. It wasn’t just that he missed Arthur, though he did, but the anxious thoughts that had lapsed while Arthur was near made a return and he stayed up for hours, mind racing and stomach churning.

The next day he put in extra hours writing, which he had not done much of with the hassle of painting the flat though Gwaine and Elyan had understood. They’d even urged him to take a break, happy to do the heavy work themselves. They still had frequent video chats, though Merlin had relaxed and often attended them in his pjs (which did not have any animals on them). 

The quiet contentment he felt in the flat with Arthur was often disrupted by the news alerts that steadily came in while he worked. Britain’s death rate was rising, more and more people were getting sick. Hospitals running short of PPE. And most of the media was doing a piss poor job of communicating how bad it was. 

One day he interviewed a nurse about hospital preparedness and how she handled the influx of patients over zoom. Afterwards he made himself a cup of tea and stared off into the distance for a long time, Arthur coming up behind him and rubbing his shoulder. It helped shake the heavy feeling in his chest, and he got up and went back to work.

In his free time, he tried to distract himself. It was easier with Arthur around. There were regular movie nights where the two of them watched all of Harry Potter, then Lord of the Rings, then Merlin finally got Arthur to watch a historical drama. He picked The Imitation Game and Arthur watched with more interest than he thought he would. At the end they were both trying not to cry.

“Fucking homophobes,” said Arthur. “I can’t believe I’d never heard of Alan Turing before this.”

“I hadn’t either,” Merlin rasped. “I researched him for days after the movie ended.”

“You’ll have to tell me all about him,” Arthur sniffled. “I can’t believe one person could do so much in a lifetime!”

Merlin also conceded to watch action films. Anything to impress Arthur. But he was pleasantly surprised with Mission Impossible: Fallout. 

“I can’t believe Tom Cruise just saved Kashmir,” he giggled. “The white saviorism is on the nose but that was epic!”

“That helicopter scene was something else!” said Arthur, reaching up and ruffling Merlin’s hair. “I knew you’d like this movie!” Merlin rolled his eyes.

“You know Simon Pegg is in the new Star Trek movies, right?”

Arthur groaned.

“Fine, we’ll watch that next time.” But Merlin knew he was looking forward to it. 

They also played games. Merlin always beat Arthur in scrabble but Arthur always had the upper hand when they played chess. Sometimes Arthur thumbed through a book while Merlin sketched. But more than once, Merlin would look up and see Arthur gazing not at the book but at him. After catching Arthur at it a few times, Merlin decided to acknowledge it.

“Hi,” he smiled.

“Hello,” said Arthur, ducking his head. Merlin could see a faint blush spreading across his face. It was endearing.

“How’s the book?”

“Good,” said Arthur. “It has a whole subplot where these female Soviet pilots in the Second World War have a relationship and one of the main characters is a bi woman, it’s a pretty riveting read. How’s the sketch?”

Merlin held it up for Arthur to see. It was a sketch of Arthur with his book. His brow was furrowed in concentration, causing his forehead to wrinkle. His blonde hair looked a little unkempt, and a slight smile tugged at his mouth. 

“Oh,” Arthur blushed. “I like it.” 

Merlin hoped that they would never lose this newfound sense of domesticity between them. This comfortable silence, the joy in being together.

A few days later, Will texted him that he’d tested negative for the virus twice. The doctors had given him a clean bill of health. Merlin was crying before he realised it. Stupid, he thought to himself, Will had only been mildly sick. But he’d been carrying a sharp, constant worry with him while he knew his best friend was ill. He had been up at night, worrying that Will’s health would deteriorate, that he would have a stroke like some young adults were having, that something would go wrong. The relief that washed over him was overwhelming.

“Merls? What’s wrong?” He heard the kitchen chair grate against the floor as Arthur stood up.

“Will’s better,” Merlin sniffled. “He tested negative twice. He’s in the clear!”

Then he was crying and laughing at the same time as Arthur whooped with joy and tried to get Merlin to jump up and down with him. They were going to celebrate, Arthur announced, and they were going to do it properly.

Arthur didn’t let Merlin help with anything and instead made him a cup of tea and handed him a book called The Song of Achilles.

“It’s incredibly gay,” said Arthur, causing Merlin burst into laughter again. The hours passed quickly while Merlin was absorbed in the book. It was incredible and he made a note to recommend it to Elyan. 

Finally, Arthur announced that they were ready to celebrate. Merlin closed his book and sat up, surprised to notice that his stomach was grumbling and that the flat suddenly smelled like lasagne. Arthur had also pulled out some of the snacks they kept hidden in a cupboard for the quarantine and the coffee table had bowls of chips, salsa, and popcorn on it. He had also brought out glasses of soda and the sweet vodka Merlin kept for the rare occasions he wanted to drink. Suddenly, Merlin felt a rush of affection for Arthur surge through him. 

  
Arthur walked up to Merlin and offered him a hand, which Merlin took and let himself be pulled up. He let Arthur lead him to the kitchen table that he had set and let Arthur pull out a chair for him. For the first time in the past weeks he felt the heaviness weighing down on him lift.

Arthur served him dinner with a little trepidation. Merlin had tried Arthur’s cooking before but this was the first time Arthur had officially cooked for Merlin. The lasagne was wonderful-just the right amount of cheese and sauce, with some zucchini and mushrooms. They made small talk throughout the meal. Arthur told Merlin about his childhood, about his distant father and how tumultuous it was when his half-sister Morgana moved in with them when he was twelve and she was ten. Merlin laughed at his anecdote about him trying to put on Morgana’s eyeliner when he was a teenager and experimenting. He couldn’t put it on in the neat line Morgana always did and after several failed attempts he’d tried to rub it off only to emerge with what looked like a black eye. 

“How did Morgana react?” Merlin eagerly asked.

“She laughed at me for two weeks,” Arthur rolled his eyes. “Then she took me aside and taught me how to do it properly. She thought me how to use mascara and lipstick too, and how to cover pimples and spots with concealer. She never made me feel weird about it, and when we sneaked out to Pride that year I totally rocked that eyeliner.” 

“I bet you did,” said Merlin, beaming at him. 

In turn, Merlin told him about the time he and Will had pranked their neighbour Old Man Simmons and got in a boatload of trouble. Old man Simmons was a stubborn grandfather who perpetually looked down on Merlin because his parents hadn’t been married when Hunith got pregnant and because he thought there was something ‘queer’ about the boy. Merlin tried to take the old man’s snipes in stride; he was, after all, an elderly man. But Old Man Simmons was stubborn and eventually it became too much for Merlin to put up with. Hunith would have told him to come to her or to try a diplomatic means of resolving the conflict. Instead, he and Will had put up an “I am Homophobic” sign on his front door. What followed was a lot of trouble and agonisingly boring weeks spent being grounded but Merlin had thought it was worth it. 

“But him being homophobic to a child sounds like a bigger issue than you putting an accurate sign on his door,” mused Arthur, taking a sip of his sprite. “That doesn’t even sound like a prank so much as an expose.”

“But it was an expose that was true of much of our neighbours,” Merlin shrugged. 

  
“Not all of them, certainly, and most of them would have told you that they supported LGBT people and would protest that they’d never use a slur or anything, but it was a polite façade to cover up what they really thought. When Will and I put that sign on Mr. Simmons’ door, we called them all out, didn’t we? Mum wasn’t so much mad at me as scared about the attention I’d drawn to myself.”

  
“That was brave of you,” said Arthur. “I’m glad you stood up for yourself, and it sounds like your neighbour deserved it. I pulled much worse pranks at that age without the noble cause. I once put one of those fart cushions under my dad’s chair when he was having co-workers over for tea. That did not end well for me.”

“I imagine not,” Merlin snorted. 

The conversation eventually turned to their plans for the future. Merlin wanted to continue as a journalist, but he could see himself being an editor one-day. Arthur wasn’t sure what he wanted to do after he quit his current job. 

“What can you see yourself doing?” Merlin asked. “If you could do anything at all?”

“So many things,” Arthur sighed. “Maybe becoming a teacher, or a politician, or helping an LGBT non-profit. Something good, something that actually matters.”

“I think all of those are good options,” Merlin smiled. “And you have lots of time to think about it.”

After dinner, they made their way to the couch. They had begun to spend a lot of time sitting together on that couch, Merlin reflected. Though he’d just eaten, Merlin was eager to try the chips and salsa and the popcorn. Arthur fiddled with his phone, putting on the first Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them movie. He said that Newt reminded him of Merlin.

“He has your kindness,” Arthur explained. “And your compassion and gentleness. Plus he has your love of animals-I swear if you were a wizard you’d be just like Newt and Hagrid, making friends with dragons.”

“Probably,” Merlin smiled lazily. “Thank you for doing this, Arthur.”

“It was my pleasure,” Arthur gave him a smile in response. “Do you want a drink? I got one of the fruity ones that you like.” 

“Sure, but we’re not going beyond tipsy if that’s alright.”  
  
“Only tipsy,” Arthur said, and poured them both drinks. 

They did get tipsy, but only slightly. The movie played in the background but they only gave it passing attention. They were more caught up in each other. Merlin was an affectionate drunk-even if he was barely even tipsy-and he’d cuddled up to Arthur without any reservations. Arthur didn’t seem to mind, wrapping an arm around Merlin and pulling him close.

Merlin felt unusually chatty-perhaps it was the alcohol, perhaps it was the knowledge that Will was okay, perhaps it was the lovely dinner he’d had. Perhaps it was Arthur. He talked incessantly-about Will, about how he thought Elyan and Gwaine were going to hook up, how he missed Lancelot who was often too busy to video chat. He told Arthur about how much he wanted a cat just like Gwen had cocoa and about how he was scared of flying. Arthur listened to him patiently, agreeing and making small comments where appropriate. He looked fond, Merlin thought hazily. 

“I’m so glad we’re friends now,” Merlin giggled. 

“So am I,” Arthur smiled, stroking a hand over his hair. “I always wanted to be, you know. I just didn’t know how to reach you.”

“Me neither,” said Merlin. “Thought you were a sloppy, sock stealing prat. But you were also pretty.”

Arthur blushed. Merlin thought it was adorable, how his cheeks turned pink.

“Too pretty,” said Merlin. “Gorgeous. Even in the morning, it’s unfair.”

“Unfair?” asked Arthur.

“That you’re so beautiful,” sighed Merlin. He knew that he’d regret this in the morning, but at the moment he didn’t want to stop. “You wouldn’t want anything to do with me. I’m quiet and plain and boring. Compared to you.”

“Merlin,” Arthur sounded strained. “You’re the beautiful one. No, really, don’t look at me like that-you’re beautiful and smart and god, Merlin I…” 

Arthur trailed off. He looked down at Merlin. For a few moments, it was silent. Then Arthur leant forward, and before Merlin could comprehend what he was doing, he had pressed his lips to Merlin’s. Merlin thought he’d freeze-he had never imagined that Arthur would kiss him-but instead he kissed back immediately. It was instinctive. He felt Arthur cup the back of his head, the other arm slipping around his back. He wrapped his arms around Arthur’s neck and deepened the kiss. It was a bit awkward-Merlin bumped his nose against Arthur’s at one point-but it was good. It was very good. He was kissing Arthur Pendragon-with tongue. He smiled into the kiss and Arthur pulled back. They rested their foreheads together.

“Do you see?” asked Arthur. “I like you. I like you a lot.”

“I like you too,” Merlin whispered. “I didn’t know you felt anything for me.”

“I’ve wanted to kiss you forever,” Arthur confessed. “And these past few weeks I’ve realised it was more than that. Merlin, I want to be with you.”

Merlin’s heart was racing. 

“This is a lot,” he whispered.

“I know,” said Arthur. “We don’t have to figure it all out right now.”

“Yeah,” Merlin smiled. “Can we kiss again?” 

And they did. 

The next morning Merlin blearily opened his eyes to the cacophony of his morning alarm, the birds chirping, and Arthur stirring something in the kitchen. He had a slight headache, a light tension lingering behind his eyes. He turned off his alarm and sighs, burrowing his head into his pillow. Yesterday, he thought. Yesterday Arthur had kissed him. He had said, Merlin remembered with a pang, that he wanted to be with Merlin. Merlin felt excited at the prospect, at the relationship that he had been fantasising about becoming a reality. But he also felt trepidation at the thought of ruining the friendship that had developed between them. It was still too new, too fragile, for Merlin to be confident it could survive a break up. And what if Arthur didn’t like him, but wanted a partner during the quarantine and was reaching out to the only option available? Merlin hated himself for letting his doubts disrupt how wonderful the night had been, for getting in the way of something that should make him happy.

Sighing, he forced himself to get out of bed and get ready. He usually had breakfast in his pyjamas, but today he put on his favourite purple shirt that his friends told him made him look handsome, and spent an inordinate amount of time trying to tame his messy hair. 

When he stepped out, Arthur looked away from the pancakes he was making and smiled.

“Good morning,” he said brightly. 

“Good morning,” Merlin answered, feeling somewhat shy. “You didn’t have to make breakfast.”

“I wanted to,” Arthur smiled. He looked cheerful, and impossibly handsome in his white button up shirt and tight fitting jeans. Merlin was doomed.

They had a quiet breakfast. Arthur made a face at the amount of maple syrup Merlin drowned his pancakes in. They kept the conversation light, mostly talking about the movie that they had watched the previous night and the direction the series could take. Afterwards, Merlin washed the dishes, dried them, and put them back in the cupboard, deliberately taking a longer time. Eventually, he had put their cutlery into their proper drawer and took a deep breath. There was no point in delaying it any longer. He walked back to the kitchen table and sat down beside Arthur instead of across from him. He didn’t want to approach their kiss and potential relationship like a business meeting.

“So,” he said. “About last night…” Arthur must have seen Merlin’s nervousness, because he was quick to take Merlin’s hand and give him a breathtaking smile. It made his eyes crinkle.

“I had a wonderful time with you last night,” Arthur said. “Especially the part where we kissed.” It was hard to concentrate on what Arthur was saying when his thumb was rubbing circles into the back of Merlin’s hand. 

“Yeah,” agreed Merlin. “That part was pretty good.”

“I’m pretty sure it was more than pretty good,” Arthur smirked. “I’m a fantastic kisser.”

“You are such a dollophead,” Merlin groaned, rolling his eyes. Arthur laughed, his head thrown back. 

“Define ‘dollophead.’”

“In two words?”

“Yeah.”

  
“Arthur Pendragon.”

“Hilarious,” Arthur drawled. He ruffled Merlin’s hair. 

“Did you mean what you said yesterday?” Merlin asked, looking down at his and Arthur’s clasped hands. “That you wanted to be with me?”

“I did,” said Arthur, squeezing his hand. “Not that I’m looking for commitment right now, I know it’s really early. But I’d like to date you, if that’s what you want too. If you don’t, we can leave it be and continue being friends.” 

“I’d like to date you too,” said Merlin. “But I have some concerns.” 

“Let’s talk about them,” suggested Arthur. He looked as nervous as Merlin was. “I have some as well.”

“Okay,” Merlin took a deep breath. “I worry that this quarantine is making us rush things. We were just talking about how nice it would be to live with a partner, maybe we’re bonding because we’re here together. That you don’t really like me, but you can’t see your friends and date so you’re drawn to me because I’m here. I mean, we didn’t really get on before this, not that well.”

“I think the quarantine is definitely a factor,” said Arthur. “We both became close faster than we would have otherwise. But the quarantine didn’t make me like you, Merlin. I’ve been attracted to you since we met, remember? And I began to want more with you after I started getting to know you, which would have happened if we’d become friends without this pandemic happening in the backdrop. What about you, do you like me because we’re stuck in this flat?”

“No,” said Merlin immediately. “I feel the same way you do. I’ve always been attracted to you and I’ve started liking you the more we’ve spent time together.”

“Then we’re in the same boat,” said Arthur fondly. He smoothed Merlin’s hair back, letting his hand linger for a few seconds. “I wouldn’t ever act on my feelings if I had any doubts about them, Merlin. I’ve spent a lot of time thinking about how I feel. I kissed you because I like you, not because I wanted to kiss someone and you were there. I would never do that.”

“I wouldn’t either,” said Merlin, squeezing Arthur’s hand. On impulse, Merlin gave Arthur a small kiss to press the point. He tasted like maple syrup. It was hard to believe that this was something Merlin could do, that there might be a future in which kissing Arthur Pendragon was a common occurrence, or even a habit. When he pulled back Arthur was beaming at him. “You said you had some concerns too?”

“Yeah,” said Arthur. “I really want to date you. But I’ve told you about my father, and how he treated Gwen. He’s not going to be happy about us dating.”

“Oh Arthur,” Merlin kissed Arthur’s cheek. “Your father has no right to reject you over who you love. But we don’t have to date, I don’t want to come in between you and your father.” Even as Merlin said it, his stomach was sinking. It would be better to lose Arthur now, on the cusp of something, than to lose him later. But the thought of it still hurt, made Merlin wish that they hadn’t kissed, that they hadn’t become friends, that the possibility of them being together hadn’t been on the table before it slipped away from them. He was embarrassed to feel his eyes well up, and hurriedly blinked it away. 

“No, Merls,” Arthur shook his head. He looked pained, but Merlin felt a sliver of hope. “I wouldn’t be having this conversation otherwise. I just want you to know that things will get rocky with him, but I’ll make sure he doesn’t treat you badly.”

“We’ll make sure he doesn’t treat you badly, either,” Merlin said, feeling relieved. He’d never insist that Arthur cut off his father to date him, even if Uther Pendragon was a horrible father. It was up to Arthur to navigate the degree to which he wanted his father in his life, if he wanted him in his life at all. 

“I know it’s very early to talk about families,” said Arthur. “But I wanted to warn you before we decide if we want to date.”

“Your father seems a big factor in your dating life,” said Merlin wryly. “That’s not a great thing, Arthur. Of course our family’s opinion matters, but it shouldn’t matter like this.”

“He kind of has been, though,” Arthur looked troubled. “Being bisexual, you know you have the option of falling in love with a woman. And so that’s what I did for the most part. I have had casual relationships with men, this isn’t my first time or anything, but they’ve never been serious. And my girlfriends weren’t beards or anything. I loved all of them. Gwen, especially. If it had worked out with Gwen, or if I found a woman who was right for me, then I would have married them happily. But I didn’t let myself pursue any of the men I was attracted to on a serious level and that was because I thought I could please my father. I wanted to be enough for him.” Arthur ducked his head and wiped his eyes with the back of his hand. Merlin rubbed his shoulder soothingly. “But I’m tired of that, and I want to be with you without worrying about what he thinks of it. I just wanted to warn you that it won’t be easy.”

“We’ll handle it,” said Merlin. “If we get serious enough for us to tell our parents, we’ll stand up to him together, okay?”

“Okay,” said Arthur, and he pulled Merlin into a hug, resting his chin against Merlin’s hair. They both had work to do, but they spent the rest of the morning cuddling, and exchanging small kisses as the sunlight poured in through the windows and felt comfortingly warm on their skin. 

When afternoon rolled around, he sat with a cup of tea and biscuits in front of his computer trying to get into work mode. Something that had increasingly become difficult during the quarantine but was especially difficult now that Merlin had fresh memories of Arthur’s arms around him, and Arthur’s lips on his own. Elyan and Gwaine were quick to sense his distraction, and they ended their work-related conversation slightly early. Gwaine’s hair had grown out a bit and he was sporting a longer beard that Merlin wasn’t fond of. Elyan was put together, but his hair was the longest that Merlin had ever seen. They were pleased, but not surprised when Merlin told them about the kiss and that he and Arthur were dating now. Or that Merlin was having hang-ups over it that persisted despite Arthur’s earlier assurances. 

“You need to try and shut that down,” said Elyan gently. “If you fret about what ifs instead of taking Arthur at his word that’ll get in the way of you enjoying your new relationship.”

“He’s right,” Gwaine chimed in. “This is a great time to let things unfold. If Arthur is just dating you because you’re stuck together, or you think he’s trying to make you feel better or whatever it’ll make itself clear pretty soon. Have some faith.”

“I’ll try,” said Merlin, uncertainly.

“That’s our boy,” said Gwaine approvingly. “Also, hurry up and shag him will you? I want Elyan’s money.” Gwaine was now betting Elyan that they would shag before this month was out, while Elyan thought it would take another two at the rate things were moving.

“Oi!” Merlin protested.

The prats broke out laughing.

The prospect of shagging Arthur Pendragon was another matter that was on Merlin’s mind. Merlin wanted to shag him. Badly. He had always felt a tinge of sexual frustration sharing a flat with Arthur; the bloke was hot. And he wasn’t modest in the least, often walking out of the loo after a shower with just a towel wrapped around the waist, giving Merlin a clear view of Arthur’s abs, his muscular arms. The frustration had grown in the past few weeks and now it was close to bursting. But he worried about it too. He wasn’t inexperienced. He’d had a serious relationship with Freya, and he’d had sex with other dates and sometimes even one night stands on occasion, like the one with Gwaine. But maybe he and Arthur weren’t sexually compatible, or maybe Arthur wouldn’t like it with him. 

But he liked kissing you, Merlin reminded himself. 

As if to prove it, Arthur gave Merlin a tender look that night as they lounged on the couch before cupping Merlin’s cheek with his hand and kissing him with a fervour. Merlin responded enthusiastically, and he buried his hands in Arthur’s hair. Arthur’s hands found their way underneath Merlin’s shirt, prompting a gasp from Merlin. Arthur paused and pulled away looking at Merlin questioningly. Merlin bit his lip and nodded, pulling his shirt up slightly to allow Arthur more room before resuming their kiss. Merlin didn’t want to stop. He liked the way Arthur was enthusiastic but gentle with him, the way he tugged Merlin closer and how he kissed along Merlin’s neck when they stopped to catch their breath.

He could get used to this.

Elyan didn’t waste any time telling Gwen, and Merlin received an enthusiastic call from her the next day. 

“I hoped you two would become friends,” she said. “I’m so happy for you too.”

“It’s very early,” Merlin ducked his head, blushing. “It might not go very far.” 

“Do you want it to go far?”

“Yes,” said Merlin. “I want to be with him. Is that okay? I mean, will it be weird having your best friend and ex dating?”

“I’ve moved on, Merls,” Gwen answered kindly. “When I broke up with Arthur it broke my heart. We loved each other a lot, and we were happy together. I know it hurt him too. But the initial spark I had with him faded and it was more familiar, and I wanted more than that. All I wanted was for him to be happy, like I’m happy with Lance. So no, it won’t be weird. It’ll be good. I think you two will be good for each other. Not to put pressure on you for it to work, just-give it a chance, Merls.”

“I will,” said Merlin, giving Gwen a tiny smile. 

Then she asked to talk to Arthur so Merlin ended up sitting in his rotating chair in front of his laptop with his best friend on the screen while Arthur casually stood behind him and wrapped his arms around Merlin’s shoulders. Gwen hadn’t been exaggerating when she said that Arthur liked to cuddle, apparently.

“How’s it going, Guinevere?” Arthur asked. 

“Very well,” Gwen smiled. “I can see it’s going very well with you.”

“What gave it away?” Arthur asked. Merlin could tell he was grinning.

“Maybe the fact that you’re dating my best friend?”

“I’m a lucky man.” Arthur kissed the crown of Merlin’s head, and Gwen giggled as Merlin blushed. 

“You are very lucky,” Gwen said. “Look after him. And whatever you do, don’t hurt him or you’ll face my wrath.”

Arthur gulped and Merlin laughed. Gwen was the sweetest person on Earth, but she’d move heaven and earth for her friends. And god help anyone who hurt them. He felt comforted that she was looking out to him, even if it was a half-playful warning to her friend and ex-lover. 

“I’ll take care of him,” said Arthur. “You have my word.”  
  
It was difficult to start a relationship with your flatmate during quarantine. While they each had their individual rooms, there was no other way to get some space. No returning home after a date with your thoughts, no excited anticipation for a day spent together. Instead, they were always together. Even while they were working, or surfing the Internet, or talking to their friends, they were in the same flat. Merlin hungered for some privacy but he also liked that Arthur was always near. He wouldn’t have believed it before the lockdown, but there was no one else that Merlin wanted to be with during the pandemic. 

  
They took turns cooking for each other. One afternoon they baked cookies that came close to burning, but they managed to salvage them. They had more movie nights, which Merlin thought were much more fun now that he could cuddle with Arthur and make out with him to his hearts content. They went out for walks together, enjoying the warmer weather and the joy of walking hand in hand down a sidewalk, uncaring of who could see. Merlin distracted Arthur when he felt cooped up at home or missed socialising, and Arthur took Merlin’s mind off the news when he learned about something dire happening.

One afternoon, when they had finished their work and there was nothing to do, Merlin asked Arthur if he could do a portrait of him.

“Of course,” Arthur smiled. “Do you want me to model for you?”

Merlin had sketched and painted Arthur before, but it was different now that they were together. Arthur was surprisingly content to sit still, one hand under his chin, for a long period of time. Merlin had to force himself to keep moving the paintbrush along the canvass instead of staring. 

They chatted quietly about the places they’d like to travel in the future, their favourite movies when they had been children and their experiences with social media. When he was finished the portrait, he nervously turned the canvass around for Arthur to see. While Arthur had seen his art and complimented it, he still felt nervous that he would fall short of Arthur’s expectations. 

But Arthur studied the portrait with a smile, the same one that made Merlin’s stomach flutter. He stood up, stretched his arms a little, before walking over to Merlin and giving him a kiss. 

“You’re a wonderful artist,” said Arthur quietly, wrapping his arms around Merlin. “I love it. You really got my nose!”

Merlin shoved him lightly, and he laughed.

“It’s my favourite picture of myself,” Arthur admitted after a moment. He pulled Merlin close and kissed him again. Merlin wrapped his arms around Arthur’s neck and deepened the kiss. Then Arthur was suddenly dipping him, bending him backwards while holding him up by the waist. Merlin gasped as a flood of want shot through him. Daringly, he clumsily grasped at Arthur’s shirt, fiddling with the buttons and trying to get the first one loose.

Arthur pulled away slightly.

“Merlin,” he said. “Do you want to…”

“Yes,” said Merlin, still out of breath from their kiss. “I want more.”

  
“I do too,” said Arthur, breaking into a wide smile. His eyes were a very bright blue. “Let’s go to my bedroom, okay?” Arthur pulled them both up, and led Merlin to his room. Once there, he opened a drawer from his wardrobe and pulled out a pack of condoms and lube. Merlin felt his face flush and he took a deep breath. He was about to shag Arthur Pendragon. 

They’d developed an easy comfort around each other, but the sight of the condoms and the knowledge of what they were about to do brought back a sense of awkwardness, a sense of apprehension. Arthur cleared his throat.

“We can go slowly,” Arthur said, looking at Merlin earnestly. “There’s no rush. And of course if you change your mind, we can just cuddle. I miss having you in my bed.”

“I want to take it slowly,” said Merlin. “I’ve been with others before and I’ve had casual sex but I like to take it slow when I’m in a relationship.”

“So do I,” Arthur smiled. “And we have plenty of time.”

“And to think that you were jealous of Gwen and Lance because they got to have sex!” Merlin laughed.

“That was mostly because I wanted to have sex with you but I thought you weren’t into me!” Arthur shook his head.  
  
“I was really into you,” Merlin sighed. “Even when I was trying not to be. I thought you were out of my reach.”

“Come here, Merls,” said Arthur softly. Merlin’s stomach did a somersault, but he managed to walk up to Arthur, who was quick to pull him into his arms.

“Are you sure?” Arthur asked. Merlin nodded, giving Arthur a quick kiss. Arthur tugged at his shirt, and Merlin lifted his arms to let him tug it off. He was glad that the flat wasn’t cold. He set to work on unbuttoning Arthur’s shirt, while Arthur undid his belt and started to pull down his trousers. They slid down to the floor and Arthur helped Merlin step out of them. Arthur’s hands came to rest on his pants, and he looked into Merlin’s eyes. When Merlin blushed and gave him a nod, he pulled them off to join the trousers and discarded T-shirt on the carpet.

“You’re beautiful,” said Arthur, looking over his body. “So beautiful.”

“You’re not bad yourself,” said Merlin. “I was-well, I was fighting a boner the entire time I was painting.” Arthur let out a surprised laugh, looking pleased. 

“Does that often happen?”

“Absolutely not!” Merlin protested.

“Not even when you do nudes?”

“Nope!”

“Would it happen if you did one of me?” Arthur asked, with a smirk. Merlin whined at the image that flooded his mind. He reached down to Arthur’s jeans, trying to get them off while Arthur laughed at him.

“Prat,” Merlin muttered under his breath, which just made Arthur laugh harder. Merlin shoved him and he finally helped Merlin pull off his jeans and then discarded his pants. God, he was gorgeous. Merlin stepped forward and kissed him, and pulling off his shirt. He rested his hand on Arthur’s chest, while Arthur cupped the back of Merlin’s neck and stroked it. 

Arthur pulled back, and rested his forehead against Merlin’s. For a moment, they stood there together.

“So if I wanted to make you feel good,” Arthur murmured into the quiet, “What would I do?”

Merlin giggled. 

“Merlin,” said Arthur softly. “What should we do?”

“I don’t know,” he said, biting his lip. He was imagining the possibilities, each of them giving him an excited rush. But Merlin was always indecisive. 

Arthur reached up a hand and stroked his bottom lip with his thumb.

“I could give you a hand job,” Arthur suggested. “Is that something you’d like?”

“Yes,” Merlin whispered. “Let’s do that.” Arthur kissed him, steadily walked him backwards to the bed. Merlin laughed as Arthur playfully pushed him onto it.

“You don’t know how imagined you in my bed without clothes when we were sharing my bedroom,” Arthur laughed. 

“I was imagining the same thing,” Merlin groaned. He watched as Arthur squirted some lube onto his hand, excitement mingling with slight apprehension while Arthur climbed onto the bed next to Merlin. 

“May I?” asked Arthur, holding Merlin’s gaze.

“Oh, just go for it,” Merlin smiled, and then gasped as Arthur took his cock into his hand and started stroking along his shaft. 

“You’re so gorgeous,” said Arthur. “The first time I saw you I couldn’t take my eyes off of you, couldn’t stop imagining having you like this, in my bed, making you feel good.” Arthur’s free hand settled on Merlin’s hip, stroking it lightly. 

Merlin tipped his head back against Arthur’s pillows and moaned. He heard Arthur’s breath hitch, as he began to stroke harder. Merlin felt himself grow hard, and he reached a hand up to stroke Arthur’s cheek.

“I still can’t believe you want me,” he said, his voice small. It was a confession that Merlin hadn’t planned to make, least of all during such an intimate moment. Arthur turned his face into Merlin’s palm, and pressed a kiss into his soft skin. 

“How could I not want you?” Arthur leaned forward and captured Merlin’s lips in a kiss, slow and gentle. He continued stroking Merlin, steadily increasing the friction. Merlin could feel the tension building, knew he was close.

When they broke off the kiss, Merlin smiled at Arthur who stared at him with wide blue eyes before he kissed him again.

“When you became my flatmate,” Arthur breathed. “I wanted you. You were so breathtakingly beautiful with your cheekbones and your eyes and your gorgeous smile.” He smoothed Merlin’s hair back.

“Arthur,” Merlin whined lightly, turning his cheek into the pillows. 

“I didn’t think you wanted me, didn’t think you liked me,” Arthur traced Merlin’s lips. Merlin gave a little whimper, which made Arthur smile.

“Easy, sweetheart,” Arthur soothed. “I’ve got you.” Merlin pulled Arthur down for another kiss, trying to convey just how much Merlin liked him. Especially at the current moment. 

Arthur kissed him back just as enthusiastically.

“I’m close,” Merlin whispered when they pulled away. “I like you, Arthur, so much.”

“I know,” said Arthur, softly. “I know that now. And I like you. I like everything about you.” He used the pads of his fingertips to stroke along Merlin’s shaft and Merlin climaxed, calling Arthur’s name. Arthur stroked his hair.

“That was so good,” said Merlin, after he caught his breath. “You’re so good.”

“So are you!” Arthur smiled.

“I’ll do you,” said Merlin, starting to sit up, but Arthur gently pushed him back down. “Next time, Merls.” He got up and left the room, coming back a few minutes with a wet washcloth. He patiently cleaned Merlin and then Merlin insisted on helping him change the sheets. Afterwards, Arthur pulled him close and lets Merlin rest his head against his shoulder.

“Do you really doubt that I want you?” He asked, playing with Merlin’s hair. 

“A little,” Merlin admitted. “I know we talked about it before, but we just seem like different people and you’re so extroverted and social and confident. I used to complain about you all the time, but it was a cover for how much I liked you and didn’t want to admit it.”

“I never would have been able to be assertive with my father if it wasn’t for you, Merlin,” Arthur said, rubbing circles into Merlin’s back. “You gave me the courage. And it’s impossible for me not to want you. You’re beautiful, and so kind, and so passionate. I’ve read all of your articles and every time I’m blown away. It makes me want to do work like that-to help people, not to work for some pointless corporation.”

“Are you coming out as a Labour supporter?” Merlin giggled, and Arthur swatted at him playfully.

“I’m trying to ease my father into it,” Arthur admitted after a moment. “But what I mean was, I’ve spent the past few months wanting you, and wishing I could be more like you. And these past few weeks I’ve laughed with you, grown close to you, got to know you. And I wanted you more with each day.”

“Even when I snapped at you to start doing housework?”

“Especially then,” Arthur grinned. “Growing up, we always had cleaners to do the housework. I kind of got used to letting other people doing it and when you took on the bulk of the work, I let you. I’m ashamed of that. It’s what my father would do and I don’t want to be him but I took you for granted. When you called me out, I wanted to do better for you, and I know I’m still not perfect, but I’ll always work at it. Plus, you look hot when you’re mad.”

Merlin poked him and Arthur laughed. 

“I’m glad we’re together,” Merlin sighed. 

“Me too,” whispered Arthur. He pressed a kiss into Merlin’s hair, holding him close. “I know this pandemic is awful, but I’m so lucky that I’m spending it with you.”

Merlin hummed in agreement. He burrowed his head further into Arthur’s shoulder. He knew that being quarantined wouldn’t be easy. He was still worried about his mother, his friends, for Arthur. He knew he would be reporting on the tragedies to come. But it was a comfort to know that he and Arthur would be together in this flat that they had both transformed into their home.

Then a thought struck him, and he groaned.

“What is it?” Arthur asked.

“Gwaine bet Elyan that we would shag before the month was out and now he’s going to be over the moon and El’s going to be so grumpy!” 

Arthur threw his head back and laughed. Merlin smiled, and kissed him.

  
It was wonderful, Merlin thought, as Arthur wrapped his arms around him, that perhaps despite what his anxiety constantly told him, that things could be okay. That the contentment that he felt at the moment wasn’t temporary. That there would be many more mornings and afternoons and evenings spent with this man at his side, many more opportunities to hear him laugh.

There was so much to look forward to.

**June 2023**

Arthur looked out the window as the plane descended. For a few seconds, the plane seemed to accelerate before it descended and the wheels made contact with the concrete. He felt a lurch of excitement. Merlin was fast sleep beside him, wrapped in his blanket. He looked, as always, endearingly sweet in his sleep. Arthur hadn’t had the heart to wake him. Merlin was scared of flying, and although he had taken a gravol before the flight, the take off had still been difficult. Arthur remembered how tightly he’d gripped Arthur’s hand, his nails leaving indents on Arthur’s skin. He hadn’t minded. The hours before that spent in an incredibly crowded Heathrow airport had also been difficult for Arthur to handle, and almost unbearable for Merlin. It had been a relief when Merlin fell asleep a few hours into their flight.

The plane came to a stop beside their terminal and the passengers broke into applause. Arthur reached out and shook Merlin’s shoulder.

“Time to get up, love,” he said. Merlin’s eyes fluttered open.

“We’re here?” he asked sleepily.

“Just landed,” Arthur responded, kissing his forehead and standing up. His legs felt stiff. He stretched, then helped pull Merlin to his feet. They pulled their carry on down from the overhead compartment and made their way out of the plane, thanking the air hostesses and nodding to the pilot on the way to the terminal. 

  
Time lagged as they waited in lines to clear security and to collect their suitcases. They both found a second to text their friends that they had landed safely. They were both relieved when everything was in order, and they walked out of Athens International Airport into the hot summer day, the sound of people conversing in Greek surrounding them. 

They took a taxi to their hotel. Their driver was a kind middle aged Syrian man who asked them about why they were visiting and recommended some good restaurants. The traffic in Athens was wild, and there were way more stray dogs wandering the streets than Arthur was accustomed to. Finally, they made it to their hotel room and had barely locked the door behind them before they made a mad dash for the bed, flopping down on it. Arthur couldn’t remember the last time he was so eager for a nap.

“We should freshen up,” Merlin mumbled, half-asleep already. Arthur hummed. Neither of them moved, content to lie beside each other, their legs tangled together. They slept for two hours, waking up feeling a little better. Then Merlin went to take a shower and Arthur took his laptop out of the carry-on, plugged it in, and turned it on. He had an email to write. He had been meaning to send it for awhile, but it felt right to send it now, in these quiet moments in the hotel room. In the coming days, he would be too preoccupied with touring Athens with Merlin to devote any time to anything else. 

_Dear Father,_

_I hope this finds you and Catrina well. I know you must not be very eager to hear from me, and the feeling is mutual for the most part. I know you’ll never forgive me for leaving Pendragon Corp. and for my ‘deviant lifestyle.’ We’ve been over this, and we’ll never agree. And I don’t want you to be an active part of my life if you’re going to do nothing but make scathing comments about my partner and I. For a long time I thought that I could manage to meet your expectations and to live my own life. I worked way harder than I should have been expected to work and put up with your efforts to set me up with the women you found suitable prospects to be my wife. I tried to suppress all the parts of myself that I knew you didn’t like because I thought that was the way to earn your love-as if a parent’s love is something that needs to be earned instead of unconditionally given._

_I don’t know if I would have had the courage to stand up to you if it weren’t for Merlin. Maybe that’s part of the reason why you dislike him so much-you must feel, deep down, that he was the one who took me away from you and the life you envisioned me living. But I had wanted to do that for ages, Father, Merlin just supported me._

_In those early weeks of the quarantine three years ago, I was still in so many ways my father’s son. I worked around the clock. I tried to escape the pressure you put on me by excessive partying when I wasn’t working. I knew I was attracted to my flatmate, so I kept him at a distance, only half-heartedly trying to reach him and giving up too easily when he refused to join me in activities that I should have known-and on some level, did know-that he wouldn’t have enjoyed. I let him do most of the housework, never lifting a finger to help. I made pathetic sexist jokes without thinking, because I wanted to reaffirm that I was masculine, a so-called ‘real man.’ I’m not laying all the blame for this on you-those were my mistakes, and there’s no excuse for them other than me being, as Merlin would say, a clotpole._

_But Merlin called me out on all those things. He saw past the walls I’d built up and saw the Arthur underneath the façade. The Arthur that was vulnerable and hungry for the acceptance that you had denied. He made me want to be a better person, to be deserving of him. But also, being with him made me want to be better for myself. I wanted to reach my full potential, which I couldn’t do if I spent my life trying unsuccessfully to please you. It wasn’t worth it._

_Morgana and Gwen tried to tell me that all the time, but I didn’t realise it until I was trapped in a flat with a gorgeous Labour voting journalist, who I was slowly but surely falling in love with. That was such an awful, uncertain time, with so many people falling sick, so many people dying. So many people struggling and in need of help. The normal life that we had all taken for granted had suddenly been turned upside down and our worlds constricted to our homes, our neighbourhoods, and the nearest grocery store. It was a time rife with anxiety, though you were mostly worried about the economic fallout of your workers having to stay home. As for me, Merlin quickly became the most constant part of my life. We barely knew each other before the lockdown, and suddenly we were constantly in each other’s company. It made us reconsider the assumptions we had about each other, made us confront our feelings and consider the potential that we had together. I feel guilty, sometimes, that I came out of the lockdown, which had been so difficult for so many, with the best thing that ever happened to me._

_And Merlin IS the best thing that has ever happened to me, Father. He’s funny, and intelligent, and kind. He is so kind. And strong. He was there when you cut me off after I came out to you, just like you did to Morgana. He was with me every step of the way when I was looking for a new career. I can’t imagine my life without him-and looking back, my life before I met him was bland. I can’t ever go back to that._

_Merlin and I landed in Athens a few hours ago. I’m writing this email still jet lagged in our hotel room. We’re on a much needed, long planned for month long trip to Greece. We’re going to visit many historical landmarks that Merlin has excitedly been researching, and spend a lot of time at the beach._

_You must be wondering why I’m writing. It’s been awhile, and most of our communication has been cursory and impersonal for years. But you are still my father, and I wanted to tell you that when I return to London, I hope to return newly engaged. And there’s nothing you can say that will change my mind._

_I also wanted to say that the door is always open, if you ever decide to be a better father and accept my choices, and more importantly, accept the man I hope will be my husband someday soon. Not that I’m holding my breath, but the option is there if you ever decide to take it. But if not, you should know that I am happier than I ever thought it was possible for me to be._

_Best regards,_

_Arthur_

Arthur took a deep breath. He read over the email, fixing a typo here and there, before steeling himself and pressing the send button. He thought of the ring he had carefully stowed away in his suitcase. He had spent weeks trying to sneak visits to jewellery stores with Gwen before he found the perfect ring. It was a white gold engagement ring that Arthur had engraved with the words _All My Love._ He couldn’t wait to get down on one knee, to see the look on Merlin’s face when he proposed to him. But first, there were sights to see and a vacation to enjoy.

While Arthur had been writing the email, Merlin had emerged from the bathroom and when he had seen Arthur typing away, he had left the room. The door swung open as Merlin came back in, armed with two cups of tea. 

“Thanks sweetheart,” smiled Arthur, as he thankfully accepted his cup and took a long sip. Merlin watched him fondly. His hair was still wet and he looked exhausted. But Arthur could tell he was excited. The past few years had been hectic, with the pandemic peaking and then eventually receding, Arthur looking for a new career while the economy was in ruins, and Merlin constantly reporting on what was happening. 

The first two years had been terse. The lockdown had been lifted after a month or so, only for cases to spike and they had been forced to return inside. That had been the story for the next year and a half-a few weeks outside, and then months quarantined inside. The worry for their own health and the health of their friends had been a constant. When Merlin came down with a fever that winter, Arthur had been beside himself with worry, even when the doctors had tested him and found that he only had the flu. Arthur had fretted over him endlessly until Merlin recovered.

Then an effective vaccine had been developed and slowly everyone had been vaccinated. The number of new cases dropped as more and more people gained immunity, and finally the pandemic had petered out. Life had not gone back to normal, though, at least not right away. Many more people worked remotely. It took some time for people to stop giving each other a two metre long berth when passing each other on the street. It was difficult to not worry when someone stood too close on the tube, or when someone coughed into their sleeve as they walked past. 

But it was wonderful to slowly regain a semblance of life as it had been. They went to bookstores and drank hot chocolate in cafes. They went to pubs and had a pint. They saw movies in the cinemas.

More importantly, they saw their friends again. Arthur remembers the first time he and Merlin went over to Gwen and Lance’s for dinner. Gwen had thrown her arms around Merlin, and they had clung to each other for a long time. Then Gwen had embraced him, and whispered about how happy she was for the both of them into his ear. Gwen and Lance had made the usual half-Guyanese, half-Chilean meals that they often served when they had guests over. That was the first time it hit home for Arthur that the pandemic was really over, sitting in Gwen’s living room dipping pholouri in tamarind sauce and listening to Merlin laugh at one of Gwaine’s jokes. 

Merlin and Arthur hadn’t been the only couple in their group of friends to emerge out of the quarantine. Apparently, Gwaine and Elyan had developed feelings for each other over long conversations on skype. When they had seen each other in person for the first time after they had both been vaccinated, Gwaine hadn’t even bothered with hello-he had simply taken Elyan’s face in his hands and kissed him. Merlin had been over the moon that his friends were happy (and that he won the bet he and Arthur had going on whether they’d get together or not).

And when travel restrictions had been lifted, Merlin had taken Arthur to his mother’s home. He had been nervous the whole time but Hunith had welcomed him with open arms. Arthur’s own mother had died in childbirth, and spending time with Hunith always filled him with joy. Winning over Will had been harder. Will had been terse with him until he had poked fun at Boris Johnson over dinner. He had warmed up to him after that (and when he saw how much Arthur loved his best friend). 

Arthur had left Pendragon Corp. after a few months to the displeasure of his father, and started working with Lancelot at Unity Project and was busy helping the homeless in the aftermath of the pandemic. He was hoping to go back to university and study political science. It suited him much more than his previous job, and he no longer woke up dreading going to work. The days of him working all day and well into the night were also over. 

Both of them had been keen to plan a trip in the aftermath of the pandemic. Merlin had a list of countries that he wanted to travel to, and they had chosen Greece because of its rich history and warm weather. And that was how Arthur found himself in a hotel room in Athens with the love of his life sleepily cuddled up to him and an engagement ring hidden in his suitcase.

They napped together for the rest of the afternoon, and only woke up for an hour to order in some dinner. Arthur had a feeling they would be eating a lot of souvlaki in the coming days, since Merlin loved it.

The next morning, they woke up feeling more alert and excited to explore the city. 

“We’re going to the Parthenon,” Merlin announced, his tone suggesting that it was futile for Arthur to object.

  
Before they left the hotel room, Merlin gave Arthur an eager kiss. It was endearing the way Merlin couldn’t contain his excitement. He still struggled with his anxiety and insecurities, but there were less panic attacks and he was much more confident. Arthur did his best to make sure that Merlin felt secure in their relationship, that he always knew how much Arthur loved him. 

During the commute Merlin chatted away about the research he’d done on the Parthenon, how it had been a Church and then a Mosque after the Ottomans had conquered Greece, who had also used it as an ammunition depot, which had led it being besieged by cannons. Arthur always loved to see the man who he had once thought as too quiet and reserved open up and animatedly _talk._ He pressed a fond kiss to Merlin’s cheek, as he moved onto the many reasons why Britain should definitely return the Elgin marbles.

Soon, the two of them were standing outside the Parthenon. There was a crowd of people around them-other couples laughing together, parents trying to keep track of their overexcited children. The birds were chirping, a sound that always brought Arthur back to the quiet mornings he had spent with Merlin during the lockdown. He slipped his arm around Merlin’s waist and pulled him close. 

“There’s no one else I’d rather travel the world with than you,” he whispered, resting his chin on top of Merlin’s head. He had never been this sappy with any of his romantic partners. But Merlin brought out his soft side, the one he had spent years trying to keep hidden.

“And I wouldn’t want to be here with anyone else but you,” Merlin said, and Arthur knew he was smiling. “I’ve looked forward to this trip so much, but what I was most excited for was to be with you for an entire month without work getting in the way.”

“I used to worry you’d get sick of me,” Arthur joked, but it had been something he worried about. “It wasn’t as if we could ever really leave each other for a significant portion of time!”

“That’s funny, I used to worry about the same thing,” Merlin laughed. 

“I know,” Arthur sighed, kissing the crown of Merlin’s head. “But you know that I love you more than I could possibly express.”

“I do know that,” said Merlin. “And I know that I love you more than that.” He smiled up at Arthur, who’s heart skipped a beat. 

“That’s impossible,” Arthur scoffed. He didn’t allow Merlin to reply, swooping in and giving him a kiss, bending him back slightly, like he had done that afternoon three years ago that day they had been intimate for the first time. 

Arthur knew it was ridiculous to be standing in front of a structure that had stood for over two thousand years and be distracted, but he couldn’t think of anything other than Merlin. He was more content than he could remember being, standing in the middle of the crowd with Merlin in his arms, happy to experience this new place with him, without any worries.

“I want to paint this,” Merlin whispered when they parted. Arthur could already picture the image that Merlin would create-the beauty of the Parthenon, the expanse of the Aegean Sea in the distance, the delighted tourists, and he and Merlin in the midst of it all, on the cusp of the rest of their lives. 

  
  


  
  
  
  
  


  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so I wrote some fanfic about the future but I wanted to leave Merlin and Arthur on a truly happy note. Thank you all so much for reading, and it would mean the world to me to hear from you if you wanted to let me know what you thought! This fic has been a huge comfort for me during this lockdown and I'm so excited to share it with you. These are strange times, but they will pass, and we will arrive at the other side of this.
> 
> Many thanks to my best friend for reading this and for your feedback! 
> 
> The title comes from this quote from Gabriel Garcia Marquez's "Love in a Time of Cholera": “It was time when they both loved each other best, without hurry or excess, when both were most conscious of and grateful for their incredible victories over adversity. Life would still present them with other moral trials, of course, but that no longer mattered: they were on the other shore.”
> 
> It's where I think Merlin and Arthur are at the end of this fic. On another shore quite literally-they're in Greece by the Aegean Sea-they're on the other shore from this pandemic, and on the other shore in terms of their relationship, from the distant flatmates to on the verge of getting engaged.
> 
> Thanks, again, and I hope you stay well and safe in these strange times.


End file.
